Progeny
by catharticone
Summary: The Doctor hopes to ease Donna's despondency after the events on The Library by encouraging her to help right a minor wrong. However, the biggest wrong of all is waiting in the shadows...
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Notes: **Standard disclaimers apply. __"Doctor Who" is the property of the BBC, and no infringement is intended._

_Special thanks as always to Sonic Jules for encouragement and beta assistance._

* * *

He never imagined he would miss her snarky comments, but he did. In his wildest dreams—and he'd had a few in his nine hundred-plus years—he'd never have thought he'd crave her brash challenges to half of the words that left his mouth. But he did. He really, truly, honestly did.

The Doctor was restless, puttering around the console, zapping semi-randomly at various bits and bobs. A few zapped back. Occasionally he yelped when a shock was particularly strong, but he didn't complain. At least the ship was communicating with him. That was more than he could say for Donna.

She had been uncharacteristically quiet since their departure from The Library three days ago. The entire experience had left him weary and bemused too, of course, but he'd bounced back after a few hours. He'd expected the same of her. She'd been resilient in the past, snapping back into her robust personality and ready to face the next escapade in no time at all. But it seemed that something was different this time round; something was gnawing at Donna Noble, weighing heavily upon her, and leaving her taciturn and brooding. And the Doctor didn't like it one bit.

There was only one thing for it, really. He needed to give her someone to save. Her innate compassion would surely ignite when faced with the downtrodden. Maybe he'd even feign a bit of disinterest, just enough to spark a hint of indignation in her. That would do the trick. He grinned thinly at his plan and began tapping at one of the keyboards.

"Now, where to go," he muttered, slipping on his spectacles as symbols flashed past his gaze upon the screen.

* * *

"Fancy a little trip?" he asked cheerfully.

He'd found Donna in the kitchen, her hands wrapped around a mug of cold tea. She'd been staring off into space and had actually startled at his initial words.

She shook her head and blinked at him. "What're you on about?"

He waited a moment in case she wanted to call him "space man" or "stupid alien git," but she ended the question without such endearments.

"A trip, Donna," he continued, smiling a bit too broadly. "We've been cooped up in here for ages. Well, I say ages; I mean thirty-one hours, nine minutes, and fourteen seconds, Terran standard time. But that's long enough. A body needs fresh air and sunshine, and some sticky pudding never hurts once in a while, either. Ooh, I love sticky toffee pudding! Especially the sort with those crunchy little bits of actual toffee mixed in with a few chocolate shavings. Have you ever had that kind? I know this little sweet shop on Gnigngnnger-2… makes the best sticky toffee pudding in the universe. What d'you say?"

She shrugged. "Don't mind, I suppose."

He had anticipated a little more enthusiasm than that. Didn't everyone love sticky toffee pudding? Apparently not, he presumed, because Donna's gaze had returned to the cloudy liquid in her cup. She exhaled a small sigh.

Not unmoved, the Time Lord's voice softened as he asked, "Is there somewhere else you'd rather go? Would you like to stop off in Chiswick to see your granddad?"

She lifted her head, and he saw a sudden flash of emotion in her eyes. "God, no."

"No?" he repeated, confused by her response.

"That's the last place I want to be." Her tone was shifting from apathetic to vehement in a heartbeat.

Perplexed, he said, "I thought after what happened… that maybe you'd want to be with your family."

She shook her head. "And have to hear all about Nerys and her latest boyfriend—probably fiance by now—and all of my other friends and cousins and their husbands and babies and _kids_." She swallowed, and he saw the brightness in her eyes.

The Doctor reached for her hand, covering it gently with his. "There's still time for that."

"Is there?" He felt her stiffen, but she didn't pull her hand away. "Wasn't even sure that's what I wanted, after Lance, I mean."

He nodded in understanding. "It wasn't real, Donna. You know that."

"Seemed real enough at the time. The emotions, I mean. Those children—I really loved them, and I can still feel it. I'd never felt anything like that before. And even with Lance, it wasn't the same as with Lee. What I felt for him was so much deeper, so much stronger."

A tear rolled down her cheek. He dabbed at it with the edge of a serviette. "I know it was difficult for you."

Her head jerked up suddenly, back from his touch. "You never even asked their names," she said with a resentful sniff.

"Their names?"

"The children. My children." Her cheeks were flushed with emotion and wet with tears.

"I'm sorry," he replied. "I didn't. What were their names?"

Slightly mollified by the kindness of his tone, she responded, "Josh and Ella."

"Those are lovely names."

"They are, aren't they? D'you think that's what I'd really call them?"

"I don't know, Donna."

She swept her hands over her cheeks then drew a deep breath. "Right. So, about this sticky toffee pudding place. Gurgle or Gargle or whatsit."

"Gnigngnnger-2," he corrected benignly.

"Yeah, whatever. But only one bowl for you, space man. Too much sugar makes you as hyper as a six-year-old with a raging case of ADHD." As soon as the words left her mouth, she swallowed back another sob.

"Only one bowl. I promise." He stood and offered her his hand.

With a quiet nod, she took it.

* * *

Gnigngnnger-2, as it turned out, was in the same system as Ngengngner-3. In fact, the two celestial bodies were twin planets, each held in orbit by the gravitational pull of the other. They were remarkably similar in geography and climate, and both were at a level of cultural, technological, and industrial development similar to late-20th century Earth. However, Gnigngnnger-2's government was regional, with laws varying widely from one small province to another. A few of the provinces still allowed indentured servitude, and it was to one of these regions that the Doctor intended to take Donna. He knew that the laws were tenuous at best and easily subject to change. It was all in the burgess's hands. He just needed a little nudge, preferably from a strong-willed redhead…

The Doctor was quite sure that he was not dyslexic. He was absolutely certain that he'd programmed the coordinates correctly. Perhaps the ship was suffering from a bit of fatigue and misread the code. Surely the Time Lord's random zaps earlier in the day had nothing to do with it…

Whatever the cause, Ngengngner-3 awaited them when he and Donna stepped from the TARDIS. At first he didn't even realize the mistake, because the two planets were remarkably similar on the surface. Indeed, he was halfway through his second plate of pudding before he grew a bit suspicious of his surroundings. For one thing, there wasn't an indentured servant in sight. He'd been a little too wrapped up in his dessert to notice at first, but eventually it dawned on him that all of the employees appeared content and free. Indeed, the work environment seemed extremely pleasant and warm.

His next clue was the sudden change in ambient temperature, followed shortly by the people's response to it. The easy camaraderie all around him shifted to nervous discussion and an abrupt focus upon the sky.

The Doctor looked up, too. Darkness was rapidly spreading from the east.

"Oh!" he said in sudden realization, resisting the urge to slap his forehead. "It's a roving eclipse! I haven't seen one of these in years—"

"An eclipse?" Donna repeated, setting aside her half-eaten pudding. "Looks like it's creating a bit of a panic."

"Roving eclipses are sudden and can't be predicted with the existing technology here," he explained. "They're not really eclipses at all, at least not in the astronomical sense. And they don't occur on Gnigngnnger-2, only on Ngengngner-3. But that's all right, because you, Donna Noble, will get the chance to witness something fairly rare and relatively unique to this planet."

His rapt gaze was still locked upon the rapidly changing sky. A smile spread across the Time Lord's face.

Donna's elbow poking his ribcage immediately erased the happy grin, replacing it with a quick grimace of pain.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, rubbing his side. "What'd you do that for?"

"Get your mind out of the sky and back on the ground. Something's going on here."

His eyes swept the large, walled plaza. Tables were emptying swiftly as feet pounded over the pavement. Everyone was leaving, and the mass exodus was becoming disorderly. Quick shoves turned into full-blown pushes, and several people stumbled and fell. Yelling and cursing ensued as men and women fled through several gates.

"Why're they all running away?" Donna asked. "Eclipses aren't dangerous."

"Shouldn't be, and there's nothing inherently harmful about this type, either." He grabbed the arm of a young man who hurried past their table. "Oi! What're you running from?" he asked.

The youth tried to pull himself from the strong grip. "It's not safe," he replied hastily, his eyes darting around.

"What's not safe?" Donna asked.

The young man's free hand swept upward. "This! You need to get inside, out of the open." He twisted free and sprinted away.

The Doctor pulled the sonic screwdriver from his pocket and made a quick scan of the area. "Atmospheric disturbance. Sudden change in air pressure. Come on, Donna, we'd better follow along. Things may get a little unpleasant in about sixty seconds."

They were at the tail end of the crowd for a few moments, swept along toward the nearest gate. Donna was at his side, but as the throng grew he lost sight of her.

"Donna!" he called as he neared the gate.

Bodies shoved past him, nearly knocking him to the ground more than once. As the crowd thinned, he stood on tiptoe to peer out, intent on finding his companion. In thirty seconds the disturbance would be at its strongest, and he'd prefer to be inside when that happened.

"Donna!" he yelled again.

Suddenly she was huffing toward him, pulling a little boy of three or four by the hand. There was a tear in the fabric above his knee, and blood was smeared over his pants leg. He was sniffling as he stumbled along.

"He was all alone," she explained rapidly, pushing the child toward the Doctor. "Must've got separated from his mum."

The air was growing thick and oppressive as darkness shrouded the plaza almost entirely.

"We need to get inside!" the Doctor shouted, holding out an encouraging hand to the boy. The child tripped, falling hard to the pavement. Immediately he began to wail.

Donna scooped him up into her arms.

"Now, Donna!" he urged.

"Yeah," she panted, "right behind you."

The Doctor's long legs carried him to the safety of the shop. Someone took his arm and pulled him inside just before the door slammed shut.

"Wait!" he cried. "My friend's still out there! There's a child outside, too!" He tried to reach for the doorknob, but strong hands closed around his forearms.

Through the window he saw complete darkness descend. Donna was gripping the child, stumbling toward the shop as her pale, alarmed face disappeared. The door vibrated slightly, and the glass reverberated with a dull rattle.

And then, just as quickly as the darkness swept in, it yielded to daylight once again. The Doctor jerked away from the restraining grips and lunged for the door. He flung it open to find Donna about two meters away, on her hands and knees. The little boy lay beneath her. She must have covered his body with hers.

He rushed out to them. "All right?" he asked.

She was checking the child but looked up at his query. "Yeah, think so. You all right, sweetie?" She ran a hand over the child's rumpled hair.

He looked up at her with teary eyes. "Leg hurts."

She pulled the boy into her lap as the Doctor examined the injury. "That's not so bad," he said gently. "Just a scrape."

And then a couple was rushing toward them, calling for their son. The boy held out his arms as they approached. The woman pulled him from Donna's lap, hugging him tightly as she crooned to him.

"He's all right," Donna reassured the anxious parents.

"He was just gone," the father said, stroking his son's hair. "I had his hand, and then several people passed by, and he… "

"Everything's fine," Donna said calmly.

The man nodded. "Thank you."

His wife glanced up, her gaze penetrating for an instant. "Yes." She offered the older woman a single nod then turned away, carrying her son toward the shop. Her husband followed.

People were emerging from the buildings now, gradually filling the plaza again. The Time Lord helped Donna to her feet as she brushed herself down. Her shirt was askew, and she smoothed it back into place.

"Did you trip?" he asked.

"No, someone pushed me, I think. Must've been one of the last to get into the shop."

"Crowd mentality," he sighed. "Same everywhere."

"So what happened? Almost felt like an earthquake, but it seemed to come from the air. Which doesn't make any sense," she mused. "Eclipses don't do that."

"This kind does. It's a dimensional eclipse. For just a few minutes, two dimensions overlap. Happens only on planets with strong magnetic-chronological-temporal resonance."

"What the hell's that?"

"I'll explain on the way back to the ship."

"We're leaving already?"

"Yep. You think the sticky toffee pudding here is good? Wait'll you taste the one they make on Gnigngnnger-2!"

* * *

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

The Doctor had hoped that Donna's brief moment of bravery would recharge her weary emotions. For a short while she seemed her old self. As they walked back to the TARDIS, she was alert and interested in his words, commenting acerbically and questioning intelligently by turns.

By the time they reached the ship, however, the spark had guttered slightly. Still, she was sharper than she'd been in recent days, and he was glad for it. He felt certain that a few minutes among the indentured servants would stoke her zeal to its usual intensity.

"So," he said brightly, scampering up the ramp toward the console, "Gnigngnnger-2. Brilliant pudding, best anywhere, you'll love it."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Think you've had enough, space man. You're bouncing."

"Oi! What's wrong with that? Good exercise, gets the old cardiovascular system pumping—"

She shook her head in fond exasperation. "Makes me tired just watching you."

He tapped energetically at the keys and pulled several levers. "I'll just have a small helping."

She snorted lightly. "Right. Like just the jumbo size."

He looked up at her, welcoming the hint of laughter he'd just heard. Her smile was fading, though, as she pressed a hand over her stomach. "Think I've had enough."

His grin disappeared, too. "It didn't sit well with you?"

"No, it was fine. That git who pushed me down elbowed me or something."

He walked down the ramp. "Let me see?"

She shook her head. "It's nothing." Her hand moved up to brush over a smudge on her shirt. "But I could use a change of clothes and a shower. Can I take a rain check on that pudding?"

"Of course. Gnigngnnger-2's not going anywhere."

"Thanks." She began to walk away but paused to turn back for a moment. "That was just what I needed."

He thought there were hints of serenity in her expression and contentment in her eyes. She flashed him another quick grin then disappeared into the corridor.

* * *

Donna kicked off her shoes and tugged down her jeans. After shrugging out of her shirt, she shed her undergarments. The steam beckoned her, and she stepped into the shower. With a deep, audible sigh she ducked under the hot spray. It felt wonderful.

She stood in the marvelous stream for some time before finally picking up a thick flannel and squirting a generous glop of soap onto it. The silky lather glided over her skin. She spent a few moments massaging the back of her neck then rubbed the cloth over her shoulders and chest. As she passed it over her belly, she winced. Oh, right. Some temporarily crazed bloke had bumped into her just as she was about to sprint for the shop. He'd knocked her to the ground, and she'd taken the boy with her unintentionally.

Then there'd been total darkness and that strange vibration all around her. It had seemed to pulse against her skin to the point of discomfort, then it had suddenly ceased as the light returned. Of course, by then the idiot who'd slammed into her was long gone. There'd been only the child beneath her, scared but safe.

She'd kept him from harm, and she felt a small glow of pride at her actions. She stepped back under the spray and watched as the suds slid away from her stomach. Bollocks. That inconsiderate git must've shoved his elbow right into her. There was a deep bruise forming low on her abdomen. She touched it gingerly and was unsurprised to find it quite sore.

Aside from that trifle, though, she was unharmed. She supposed it could have been worse. She shrugged and finished her shower then wrapped herself in a thick robe.

God, she was tired. She'd felt fatigued since they left The Library, but a good night's sleep had eluded her. Images of Ella and Josh kept running through her mind. She still recalled how it felt to be their mother. It was wonderful. The knowledge that she would probably never feel that again had taunted her and haunted her, stealing her slumber and leaving her lethargic and lugubrious.

Donna sank down on her bed and pulled up the duvet. Within a few moments she was sound asleep, dreams of her phantom family abandoned in the abyss of deep slumber.

* * *

The Doctor had expected Donna to return to the console room within an hour or so. He spent the time reviewing the events that had led to the roving eclipse. He couldn't help grinning at the knowledge that he'd arrived just in time to witness the relatively rare event. He'd shown it to Donna, too, and he knew that her participation in the child's rescue had left her feeling more herself. All in all, it had been a good experience. And there'd been pudding, too…

After one hour and twenty-six minutes, he began to wonder where his companion was. Maybe she'd decided to make tea or sandwiches. She hadn't had much appetite over the past few days. Perhaps the pudding had jumpstarted that, just as the little boy's need for help had boosted her emotions.

He strolled to the kitchen only to find it empty. That was too bad, really, because he rather fancied a cuppa. His feet moved softly yet purposely through the corridor until he reached Donna's room. Her door was ajar. He tapped at it lightly.

"Donna?" he inquired, keeping his voice low. "You all right?"

A soft snore was her reply. He poked his head into the room to see her curled up in bed, duvet tucked up around her chin. He stepped inside but remained near the doorway. She was breathing deeply, and her expression was tranquil. She was enveloped in heavy, dreamless sleep.

He smiled gratefully. He knew she hadn't had a restful night since they left The Library. He'd seen the dark circles under her eyes and heard her stifled yawns. He'd come close to offering her a sleep aid and was glad that now such pharmacological assistance wouldn't be required.

Perhaps she hadn't started a minor revolution or remedied the inequities of the downtrodden. But she'd saved a small child, and that was enough.

"Sleep well, Donna," he whispered, then the Doctor turned and padded silently from the room.

* * *

After ten hours, the Doctor wondered whether his companion had taken his last words a bit too literally. He was growing impatient for her to wake. He fussed about the console then removed a few panels to check some wiring, disconnect and reconnect a handful of circuits, and realign the temporal interface. None of this really needed to be done, but he couldn't very well just laze about idly like some sort of _human_…

He was just resealing the panel when Donna shuffled into the cavernous room. He turned toward her, expecting to see the rosy-cheeked glow that seemed to follow an extended period of sleep for humans. Instead he found a pale complexion and slightly swollen eyes.

"Mornin'," she croaked.

"Afternoon," he corrected, glancing at one of the clocks on the console, "at least by Terran standards. You all right?"

"Yeah. Feel like I could sleep another eight hours, though." She stretched languorously.

"But you did sleep, soundly I mean?"

She nodded. "Like a stone."

"Well, you needed it."

"Suppose I did." Her stomach made a deep gurgling noise, and she pressed a hand over it.

"Hungry?" he asked.

"Starving! Think the ship can scrounge up some bangers?"

"Check in the fridge, behind the Venusian chorracorra salsa, top shelf," he suggested.

"Gimme me ten," she replied, already moving toward the hallway.

"Tea?" he called hopefully.

"Nope," she yelled back. "This is definitely more of a coffee morning for me."

* * *

_To be continued…_


	3. Chapter 3

Mid-way through her second cup of coffee and third banger, Donna was feeling much more alert. She'd been a bit light-headed when she woke, undoubtedly a result of the scant sustenance she'd had over the past few days. Now her appetite had returned with a vengeance. Even the slightly off taste of the sausage and coffee didn't deter her from wolfing them down.

The Doctor had tucked into his breakfast enthusiastically, too, polishing off two bangers, two slices of toast slathered with marmalade, and a cup of coffee with lots of milk and sugar. He was grinning at her as she slid the final bit of banger into her mouth.

"Wha'?" she mumbled around the meat.

"You're looking much better."

She frowned a bit. "You saying I looked bad before?"

His mouth opened but he seemed to pause a moment before speaking. "No, of course not! You just look happy and… well now."

She supposed she could forgive his almost-insult. Still, she waved her fork at him in mild warning. "Watch it, space man." Her half-smile belied the chiding words.

His grin reappeared. "So, feel like trying that sticky toffee pudding today?"

Her eyes flicked over the empty plates and cups. "Yeah. Sounds like the perfect dessert."

He chuckled and sprang to his feet. "Meet me in the Console Room in ten minutes."

She began gathering up the dishes. "Yep."

He patted his stomach. "Maybe a stroll first," he said.

"What? You're too full for dessert? That's a first!" The man really was a bottomless pit where food was concerned.

"I didn't say that. But Gnigngnnger-2's a gorgeous planet, with promenades all along the ocean front. And, since three-fourths of the planet's water, so there's a lot of ocean front. You'll love it, Donna."

"Then get to it," she suggested, shooing him away from the sink.

He'd been gone for only a minute or so when she felt the wave of nausea roll through her. Donna took a deep breath and leaned against the counter. She should've asked him about the sausages; lord only knew how long they'd been in the refrigerator… And Time Ship or not, she was sure that food could spoil here.

The queasiness subsided then returned with a vengeance. She stumbled out of the kitchen and back toward her room, clapping a hand over her mouth and hoping she could make it to the loo in time. She'd just stepped into her bedroom when she retched.

"Damn!" she muttered, reaching for the rubbish bin.

But nothing happened. She felt her throat constrict and her stomach cramp, but her breakfast remained where it belonged. And then, just as quickly as it had come on, the nausea passed. Within a few minutes she felt fine.

Well, maybe she wasn't quite up to sticky toffee pudding, but a nice walk along the beach with the cool sea air refreshing her felt like just what she needed. She splashed a little water on her face then smoothed on a hint of lip gloss. Thus fortified, she walked to the Console Room to join the Doctor.

He'd already set the coordinates, and the ship lurched from the void with its usual mix of vigor and resistance. She waited near the door until he'd scampered down the ramp.

"Welcome to Gnigngnnger-2," he said, opening the door with a flourish.

Donna's head began to throb with the first step she took. By the time she'd set foot on land, the pain was nearly unbearable. Stunned, she reached up to press her hands over her temples.

"Donna? What's wrong?" The Doctor's voice sounded fuzzy, as though he were speaking to her from a distance. Yet his blurry face was right before her.

"Headache," she spluttered.

He took her arm and helped her back inside the ship. She heard the sound of the doors closing and realized that the pain and fog were rapidly diminishing. She dropped her hands, blinking in confusion.

And then his palms were on her cheeks, and he was studying her eyes. One hand moved up to feel her forehead while the other slid down to feel her pulse. "No fever, no apparent neurological involvement," he muttered.

"It's better now," she told him. Indeed, aside from a bit of lingering nausea, she felt fine.

He placed a palm at her back and guided her up the ramp and to the jump seat. "What happened?" he asked. He was still scrutinizing her closely.

She shook her head. "Dunno. There was just this really sharp pain as soon as I got outside."

"It came on suddenly," he clarified.

She nodded. "Yeah, just like that."

"And you felt fine before?"

There'd been that little bout of queasiness, but she was certain it was due to iffy bangers. "Yeah," she replied.

He'd pulled the sonic screwdriver from his pocket and was moving it over her forehead. "Readings seem normal," he told her. "Possibly it was an allergic reaction to something in the planet's atmosphere."

He turned his attention to the console for a few moments, tapping at keys and watching data scroll across a screen. "Carbon concentration's slightly higher than on Earth, and this time of year there're some trees blooming, similar to mulberry. Maybe that's what triggered it," he mused.

"Yeah, probably."

"So, we won't go there again."

"I was looking forward to seeing the ocean," she said.

"Oh, well, that's an easy request. There're at least a hundred planets with gorgeous oceans and no mulberry-like plants. I'll double-check the carbon levels before we leave the ship. Only thing is, we won't find pudding like that anywhere else."

"Think I can live without it," she responded. "Wouldn't mind some ice cream, though."

He grinned. "Then ice cream you shall have! Yerbrey's got the best ice cream this side of Mutter's Spiral—seven hundred eighteen separate flavors." He began setting the coordinates but paused to look back at her with a critical eye. "You sure you're feeling all right now? I can run you through the infirmary if you like—"

She frowned. "No thank you! Do they have anything like pistachio?"

"_Oh_ yes!" he replied enthusiastically. "Nine different kinds, in fact."

"With fudge. Lots and lots of fudge."

His grin widened as he yanked the final lever. The TARDIS dematerialized smoothly, and Donna stood.

"Hang on a tick," he cautioned. "Let me just do a quick analysis of the atmosphere." His eyes moved rapidly over the screen. "Right. Looks fine." Then he glanced up at her again. "But you, Donna Noble, don't look right at all."

"What?" She scowled. She felt fine.

"Best ice cream in the galaxy, but they're a little rigid socially. You'll get arrested if you walk about dressed like that."

She looked down at her attire. She wore a purple jumper and black jeans. "What's the matter with it?" she asked a bit indignantly.

"You can't wear trousers there. You need to put on a skirt. Check the fourth shelf on the left, second tier in the wardrobe room. I reckon that'll do."

"You're saying women aren't allowed to wear what they want?" His words had piqued her sense of justice.

"Nope." A little grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "But I suspect that you're going to try to change that."

"Damn right I am!"

"But not dressed like that. Trust me, Donna, you'll get a lot more listeners if you seem to fit in."

Somewhat reluctantly she headed for the wardrobe room, the old phrase about honey and flies echoing through her head. But then she thought of vinegar, and a hint of the nausea returned.

* * *

He thought she'd be in a good mood when she got back from the wardroom room, but Donna was frowning. Maybe she was thinking about the social strictures…

"Oi! Ship's messing with me," she informed him, tugging at the waistband of the long denim skirt she'd donned.

Confused, he asked, "What?"

"Stuff in the wardrobe room's supposed to fit, right? You said the ship tailors it for each person, yeah?"

"She does," he confirmed. He had a rather unpleasant idea where the conversation was heading.

"Then why's this so tight? It's off by at least one size."

He couldn't stop the comment that sprang from his mouth. "Maybe you've gained some weight."

Her eyes flared with umbrage. "At least I'm not as skinny as a drowned rat! Besides, I've hardly eaten anything in the last few days except for breakfast this morning."

"Water retention?" he suggested, thinking a scientific explanation would placate her.

"No!"

He was prepared to offer several other reasonable ideas, but her expression stopped him. "TARDIS must be malfunctioning," he conceded, fairly certain that she wasn't but unwilling to face the wrath of an offended human woman, particularly one verging on PMT.

"Well, you'd better have a look at her, after we get that ice cream." She sashayed toward the doors, her skirt swishing around her ankles.

He hurried to join her then pushed open the door. The salty scent of the sea met his senses, and he inhaled deeply.

"Shit," Donna ground out.

She was beside him, her hands clutched around her head. The color had drained from her face, leaving her pallid and clammy. He thought she was about to faint. Immediately he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and supported her as he guided her back into the ship.

This time he kept his arm securely about her until he'd led her to the jump seat. She sank down heavily, blinking up at him. She remained pale, but a slight rosiness was already returning to her cheeks.

He tilted up her chin so that he could examine her eyes. Her pupils were equal and reactive. The pulses at her temple and throat were somewhat rapid but strong.

"Another headache?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yeah. It's almost gone now, though. I thought you checked the planet for allergy stuff." Her tone was just a bit accusatory.

"I did, and there weren't any specific allergens present. The environment here's actually one of the most pristine anywhere."

"Well, there must be something out there, 'cause I feel fine now."

Her color had improved significantly, but the severity of her reaction still concerned him. They'd visited a dozen planets with no adverse physical consequences to her, yet the last two had caused an acute reaction. He switched on the sonic screwdriver and ran it over her head once again.

"I'm fine," she said again, trying to wave away the instrument.

"Probably, but this time I'm going to be sure."

He moved the screwdriver down over her chest—coronary and respiratory function were normal—then scanned her stomach. One of the lights flickered then began to pulse rhythmically. He shook the device and tried again. For just a moment he was confused, then comprehension hit.

"There's a second set of life signs," he said slowly, lifting his gaze to her face.

She didn't understand yet. "What're you on about?"

He swallowed then lifted the screwdriver to show her the indicators. "A second set of life signs, here." He pointed at her abdomen.

"Huh?"

"Donna," he said as calmly as he could, "you're pregnant."

* * *

_To be continued..._


	4. Chapter 4

Donna stared at the Doctor in utter disbelief. "You're barmy!"

He shook his head. "There's definitely another set of biosigns."

"Stupid screwdriver's broken," she countered.

"No, it's not." He seemed to think for a few moments. "Actually, this explains a lot: the weight gain, the headaches—"

"But how… how can I be pregnant?"

He risked a very slight quirk of his eyebrow. "The usual way, I imagine."

She frowned. "How long've I been traveling with you?"

"Just over five weeks, Earth standard time."

She dug back into her memory. She hadn't dated much since Lance, but there'd been that bloke a couple of weeks before she reunited with the Time Lord. They'd met at a bar, she'd had a few too many, and they'd ended up in his car. She remembered some very enthusiastic snogging, and she recalled that a few items of clothing had been shoved down and moved aside, but she didn't think things had gone _that _far. She'd been pretty pissed, though…

She placed her hand on her belly. A baby. She was going to have a baby. Suddenly all thoughts about how it had happened, with whom, and when, disappeared. She was going to be a mother, just as she'd dreamed, just as she'd been in that other realm.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Could it've been Lee?"

The Doctor had crouched before her to scan her abdomen again with the screwdriver. He seemed very serious. "What?"

"Lee. My husband, when I was in the computer realm."

"No, Donna," he replied kindly, "you were incorporeal. It's not possible that any physical interactions took place."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

With a shake of her head, she said, "Doesn't matter, really." Then, as a sudden surge of euphoria warmed her body and soul, she grasped his hands. "A baby! I'm going to have a baby!"

"Looks like it," he said, and her joy was infectious, because his sober expression shifted to one of cautious cheer.

"I've gotta tell my mum. Can we go to Chiswick?"

"Now?"

"No, dumbo, next year!" But her tone was teasing, not insulting. "I want to tell her and Granddad right away."

He rocked back on his heels. "It'd be a good idea to stop in the infirmary first, just to check you over, make sure everything's all right."

"What, you're an obstetrician now?"

"I've got excellent equipment," he began.

She laughed at that; she was ecstatic, elation burbling up without restraint. "Maybe," she interjected ebulliently, "but I won't be needing it now!"

Slightly bemused, he replied, "I think we should be sure about this before you tell anyone."

Donna's jubilation quickly faded to a frown. "But you said there's a second set of life signs. You aren't certain? What the hell else could it be?"

"I'd just like to run a couple of tests, just to be sure the sonic screwdriver isn't malfunctioning."

"What, like a pregnancy test?"

He nodded. "Just to confirm everything." He stood and held out his hand.

She took it, pushing herself to her feet. She was awfully tired, but she supposed that was to be expected. "Right. Let's get this over with, then."

He led her down two corridors to a large, bright room. She'd never noticed it before, but once she stepped inside she realized that it resembled a Casualty clinic. Two beds were tucked beside the far wall; an examination couch sat in the center of the room. Clean, metallic countertops and cabinets lined the other three walls, with various machines and pieces of equipment scattered about.

"Have a seat," the Doctor said, motioning toward the couch.

She shuffled across the tile floor and climbed up onto the couch. Her gaze moved critically over the room. It looked official enough, but he'd never mentioned it before… The Time Lord was moving about, opening drawers and cabinets, apparently searching for something. When he finally turned around, he held a small device in his hand.

"Slide up your sleeve a little," he requested.

She complied and watched as he pressed the small instrument over her wrist. She felt a sharp tap, then he pulled the device away and slid it into a nearby slot that seemed to be part of a computer system.

"What was that?" she asked, rubbing her wrist. It didn't hurt, and her skin was unmarked, but it still felt sort of weird.

"Blood analyzer. Fastest way to confirm pregnancy."

"So I don't have to pee on a stick?"

He wrinkled his nose in mild disgust. "No, of course not."

"How long'll it take?"

"About three minutes."

She looked at the equipment nearest her. "You got an ultrasound in here?"

"No."

Her face fell in disappointment. "Oh."

"Those are archaic." He pointed at a machine on a low trolley near the couch. It had a sleek, flat monitor and a wand. "But _that_ would work. It's much simpler than an ultrasound, too. Just takes one push of a button to show a fetus—or whatever else one wants to see—in excellent detail."

"Can I see?"

"Let's wait for the results of the blood analysis," he suggested. He slipped on his glasses and tapped at a few keys on the computer screen, momentarily engrossed in his task.

Donna wheeled the not-ultrasound closer. There was only one button on the screen. She couldn't resist pressing it. The monitored flickered silently to life, immediately showing two images of human bodies, one male and one female. She brushed her fingertip over the female. The image was instantly larger. She touched the abdomen, and a bigger, more detailed view filled the screen. She could see the various organs depicted. She tapped the uterus, and the wand began to glow.

She glanced back. The Doctor was reading some strange, scrolling script on his computer screen. With a shrug, she reached for the wand and passed it over her abdomen. Her eyes moved to the monitor.

"Oh," she sighed.

"Donna?" The Time Lord was beside her in an instant. "What've you…Oh, you turned it on."

But she barely heard him. Her attention was focused upon the screen. "I don't see anything," she said, deeply disappointed.

He leaned forward to study the monitor, then he pointed to a tiny spot. "Here."

"Is that…" She squinted and moved the machine closer. "Is that my baby?"

"Yes."

"Then I really am pregnant." Joy suffused every inch of her. She beamed at the screen.

"May I?" He took the wand from her. "Lie back. Let's get a better view."

She complied without question. He moved the wand about as she continued to watch the screen. The image wavered and sharpened, then it grew larger. She felt something brush over her shirt and light pressure against her skin.

Donna winced. "Ow," she muttered, tearing her eyes away from the screen to see that the Doctor had set the wand directly over her womb.

"Does that hurt?" he asked, clearly concerned. He lifted the wand and touched the hem of her shirt, starting to push it up.

"No," she replied, nudging his hand away. "I just wasn't expecting that. Didn't realize you'd have to shove it up against me. So does everything look okay?"

He permitted the wand to hover just above her again. He seemed slightly tentative as he replied, "I think so."

Her gaze returned to the screen as her hand reached for the image. "Wow. I'm gonna be a mum." Then, with considerable enthusiasm, she repeated, "I'm gonna be a _mum_!"

The computer on the counter beeped. "That'll be your blood work," he informed her.

He set the wand on the couch.

"Can you print this? This picture, I mean?"

"Hit that icon up in the right corner."

She did, and in a few seconds a page slid from the bottom of the screen. Donna grasped it, staring in awe at the image before her. She got off the couch. "C'mon, let's get back to Earth. I've gotta show this to my mum."

But he didn't move. He was still reading whatever bizarre language covered the screen. She grabbed his arm.

"C'mon, Doctor! Take me home!"

"Donna, wait. I need to run another anlaysis—"

"Yeah, yeah, fine. But do it while I'm with my family."

His brow seemed to tighten as he responded, "With your family. Yes, that's probably a good idea."

"'Course. Now let's go."

A minute later they stood at the console. The Doctor twisted a knob or two then yanked a lever. "Right. Chiswick, mid-2008."

Grinning, Donna wondered which of her friends she should tell first. Nerys. Yes, definitely Nerys. She'd get the word out.

The ship juddered just a bit as it dematerialized. Donna hurried down the ramp and toward the door. She was about four feet away from the portal when pain seared through her skull. She fell to her knees, clutching at her head. Her vision was fading as dark spots danced disjointedly before her.

"Donna!"

The Doctor's voice was just an echo. She felt herself falling but was unable to stop her descent. Her head pulsated agonizingly, blurring her thoughts, stealing coherent language from her. Yet one fragment of an idea wormed it way through the maelstrom. Her lips formed the words almost of their own accord.

"Get… away."

Even through the haze of pain, she could hear the desperation in his tone. "Donna, I'm trying to help you!"

She thought she felt his hand upon her face. He didn't understand. She forced her eyes to open, to permit the light to slice into her senses. "Away. From here," she gasped. "Void."

"Oh. Oh!" Her head was lowered gently to the floor, then he was on his feet.

She felt the ship shudder, and the pain diminished. She'd pushed herself into a sitting position before the Doctor returned to her side. He knelt next to her. His eyes were sharp and appraising as he lifted her chin to study her face.

"I'm all right now," she said weakly.

He lifted her wrist and pressed his fingers over the pulse point. "Tell me exactly what happened."

She shrugged. "Another headache. It started just before I got to the doors."

"But this one was worse than the others. They've gotten progressively worse." He might have spoken the last sentence to himself.

"Yeah, suppose so. It's because I'm pregnant, isn't it? My friend Kiara got really bad headaches when she was pregnant, too."

Strangely, he neither confirmed nor denied this. Instead, he took her arm. "Can you stand?"

She nodded, and he helped her to her feet. She wavered a little; she remained somewhat dizzy, and now a hint of nausea was building. Must be morning sickness…

"Think I should lie down for a bit," she said.

His arm slid securely around her waist. "Why did you say we needed to get away, to return to the Void?"

"Did I?" She only had an ephemeral recollection of that.

"Yes, Donna, you did."

"Huh. Dunno, really." The nausea grew stronger. She pressed a hand over her mouth. "Uhn. Think I might… be sick."

He glanced at her then hurried her down the corridor and into her room. She wrenched away from him and stumbled to the loo, reaching the toilet just in time. It was over quickly, though. Stomach emptied, she sank back on the cool tile while the Doctor passed her a cool, damp flannel.

She wiped her face and steadied her breathing. "God, I hate puking. Suppose I'll have to get used to it for a while, though."

The Doctor was uncharacteristically quiet. She glanced up at him to find him watching her with a grave expression.

"Oi, it's just a little morning sickness!" she assured him. "Nothing to get all glum about."

"Are you feeling better?" he asked.

"Yeah. But I really fancy a kip now."

"Maybe we should go back to the infirmary," he began.

"You go. Finish up whatever it was you were gonna do. I'm not going anywhere."

He helped her to stand, and he seemed poised to say something else, but he had the good sense to keep his mouth shut. She really was too tired for any more of his blather. The moment she reached her bed, she kicked off her shoes and lay down.

"Donna, I really think—"

"What?" she interjected, reaching for the blanket as she curled onto her side. "Whatever it is, it's gonna have to wait, 'cause I'm knackered."

He tucked the covers around her shoulders with a small sigh. "I'll check in on you later."

"Mmn." She closed her eyes, visions of booties and chubby baby toes filling her mind as she drifted into sleep.

* * *

The Doctor stood beside Donna's bed for a long time. She had fallen into a heavy sleep almost immediately; she was clearly exhausted. At least her color was better now. She'd been alarmingly pale when she'd collapsed in the Console Room, and her nausea and vomiting had done little to improve the unnatural pallor.

She was breathing steadily. Still, he scanned her again with the screwdriver to confirm that there were no abnormalities in her vital signs. Whatever had caused her intense yet brief illness had passed.

The Time Lord's thoughts were racing. What could explain her reaction to leaving the ship? Pregnancy could cause headaches, nausea, and fatigue, but the way each had manifested, inextricably linked with her attempts at departing the TARDIS, concerned him deeply.

He had other concerns, too, and information filled his mind as he searched quickly through his memory to ascertain dates.

Assured that Donna was resting comfortably and was in no immediate danger, he returned to the infirmary. He read the results of the blood analyses carefully, removing his glasses and rubbing at the bridge of his nose when he'd finished. Then he stood and walked to the deep body scanner. With a single tap the monitor flared to life again, revealing the last image it had taken.

He studied the screen for a few seconds. His hand moved with unwonted slowness as he touched an icon to enlarge the image. He could see the fetus in clear detail now. He would need to show Donna this view. It would help him to explain, help him to justify to her what he needed to do.

He moved to a cabinet across the room. He began to reach up, but abruptly his hand dropped to the countertop. The Doctor's shoulders slumped, and he permitted himself to hang his head for a few seconds. Then he took a breath, ran a hand through his hair, and pulled a small vial from the cabinet.

He removed a syringe from the drawer and filled it with the clear liquid. He set it carefully on the clean, white counter. He would need to wake Donna soon; they could not afford undue delay. The sooner this was taken care of, the better.

But he'd let her sleep a little longer. He'd give her just a little more time…

* * *

_To be continued…_


	5. Chapter 5

Donna woke feeling muzzy and thick. She was still on her side, but her hand rested protectively over her belly, over her baby. Her baby! She was going to be a mother. The fog lifted from her brain and she sat up, grinning from ear to ear.

She was hungry—ravenous, in fact. All traces of her earlier queasiness were gone. She got out of bed, light-headed for a few moments until she took a couple of deep breaths. She knew she'd feel better after she ate.

She still wore her clothes, which seemed slightly whiffy to her. She changed into soft, comfy sweats then shuffled off to the kitchen. She reached for the coffee before she remembered that she would need to avoid caffeine for the next… what, seven months or so? She rummaged about until she found some herbal tea, settling for a large mug of chamomile. It was a small, worthy sacrifice.

She wolfed down two slices of buttered toast and a banana. She probably needed some protein, too, and she thought she should have some milk or something else with calcium. She'd need to buy a baby book or two to be sure she was eating properly. Did she need some sort of prenatal vitamins, too? Maybe she could ask the Doctor.

She found some cheese in the refrigerator and cut a thick slice. She was half-way through it when the Time Lord quietly entered the room. She didn't hear his step, and she was startled when she glanced up to see him standing in the doorway. He had a somber expression on his face.

"Oi!" she mumbled around the cheese. "Scare a body half to death, will you." But she was too happy to remain perturbed for long. She swallowed the cheese and smiled up at him. "Morning. Or evening. Or whatever it is."

"You slept for five hours," he informed her gravely.

She shrugged. "Yeah?" Her hand wandered to her belly. "Suppose I'll be sleeping a lot more now. You got any books on pregnancy in that giant library of yours?" Before he could reply, she continued, "And what d'you know about vitamins and stuff? Doesn't really matter, actually, 'cause I'll just ask when I go in for my first appointment. But it might take a week or so to get in, so I should probably start taking care of the little one right away. So come on, Mr. Genius, tell me what I need to know."

"Donna, you know," he began, and she thought he sounded almost hesitant. "You know what happened when we stopped in Chiswick"

She frowned at the blurry memory. "I got queasy—had a bout of morning sickness."

"It was more than that. Do you remember the headache?"

"Sort of. But that's just part of being preggers."

He swallowed; she could see his Adam's apple move slowly in his throat. 'Course it probably wasn't called an Adam's apple to him. Probably had some weird alien name like a Jupiterian apple…

He was shaking his head, and his expression seemed to reflect sorrow. But that didn't make any sense. This was a happy time, the happiest time of her life. Maybe he felt some regret. Maybe he was recalling Jenny.

"You had a terrible headache. It came on as you approached the doors," he was saying. "It prevented you from leaving the ship."

She blinked up at him in confusion. "No. It was just that I got sick. I threw up."

"You did. But that was afterwards. After you told me to take you into the Void."

"I said that?" Her brow furrowed a bit; she had a vague recollection of something…

"Yes. Do you know why?"

"Don't be daft! 'Course I do."

He waited for a few moments, but she did not respond.

With a small shake of her head, she finally admitted, "I'm not sure. I don't really remember saying it."

He inhaled then exhaled slowly. With a quick glance at her plate, he asked, "Are you finished with that?"

Her hunger had abated considerably. "Yeah."

"All right. Come on, then."

She stood. "Where're we going? Back to Chiswick?"

"Not yet. There's something I need to show you."

She walked at his side along the corridor, thinking that he was moving more slowly than usual. Normally the man's energy was barely contained as he fairly skipped along the hallways in his ship. He must know that she felt a bit tired and sore. Bless.

She thought they were going to the library—she'd asked him for a book, after all—but he led her to the infirmary instead.

"What're we doing in here again?" she asked rather petulantly. He'd done his tests, and she'd had her scan, and he'd told her everything was fine.

"I need to show you something," he said again. He nodded toward the examination couch.

She climbed up. Maybe he was going to do another scan, a better one so that she could see the baby more clearly.

"Lie back?" he asked deferentially.

She complied. She noticed that the monitor on the not-ultrasound was already on, and the wand glowed dully.

"Could you lift your shirt a little?" Again he was nothing but respectful and almost painfully polite.

She pulled up her top to expose the lower portion of her abdomen. Her track trousers sat just over her hipbones.

"I need to lower these a little," he informed her, and she thought she heard an apology in his tone.

She nodded, watching as his slender hands loosened the drawstring then eased the trousers down a few inches. Something caught her eye, and she lifted her head to gain a better view. The bruise low on her abdomen was a dark smudge against her pale skin.

The Doctor traced the edges of the injury gently with one delicate fingertip. "This happened during the eclipse."

"Yeah. Some pillock elbowed me, shoved me out of his way."

He plucked an instrument from the countertop and aimed it at the contusion for a few moments. The bruise immediately faded then disappeared.

"Thanks," she offered.

A deep frown was his only reply as he reached for the wand.

"Is this gonna be a better scan?" she asked.

"No."

He was acting so weird, so serious and sullen, barely saying three words at a time. She wondered if he was jealous of her.

She lay quietly while he ran the wand slowly over her belly. Her gaze moved to the screen, where she saw an image similar to the one they'd obtained previously. It was hard to make out much; to her untrained eye, the baby was just a small blob. Still, it was her baby, her child, and this knowledge made her smile.

Her joyful expression faded just a bit when the Time Lord set the wand aside and motioned her to sit up. He spent a few moments fiddling with the screen before a paper copy slid silently from the base of the machine.

He reached over to the nearest countertop to take another sheet then turned to face her. He looked grimmer than ever.

"I need you to look at these," he said.

She didn't like his attitude one bit. It was making her feel anxious. She snatched the sheets from him. "Yeah, all right."

"This," he pointed at the glossy paper in her right hand, "is the scan from nine hours ago." He indicated the other sheet. "And this is the one we just did. What do you see, Donna?"

She squinted at the images. She knew where the baby was now, and as she studied the two print-outs she noticed that the dark mass to the left was somewhat larger than the one on the right.

"Oh! Did you enlarge it? I think I can see a sort of humanish shape on this one."

He shook his head. "I didn't change anything. This," he touched the first scan, "is the blastocyst, just after implantation. But this," he gently tapped the second image, "shows fairly well-defined ectoderm, mesoderm, and endoderm. This is clearly an embryo."

He looked up over his glasses, and she felt that the intensity of his expression was intended to convey something, but she didn't have any idea what he meant. "What're you on about, then?" she asked. She was growing perturbed with him. Why the hell couldn't he just say what he intended?

"Donna." He placed his cool hand over hers. "Development from blastocyst to fetus takes at least five days in a standard human pregnancy. This," he gripped the second scan tightly enough to crumple the thick paper, "happened in less than ten hours."

She shook her head in annoyance. "God, can't you just speak English?" But the gist of his words was slowly sinking in. Something was different—happening faster, it seemed—and he was very obviously concerned by it.

He removed his glasses and ran a hand through his hair. "The blastocyst is the initial bundle of cells, about 500 of them, that forms right after fertilization."

She wasn't thick; she was actually a rather clever girl. "Wait a mo'," she said. "You're trying to tell me that this happened—I got pregnant—just a couple of days ago?"

He nodded. Her hands shot out to slam against his chest, hard enough to make him stumble back.

"I was in the ship—" she began. "How the hell can this have happened while I was in the ship with no one else but _you_? What did you do to me?" Her voice had risen considerably.

Momentarily shocked, his eyes widened, then he shook his head fiercely. He lifted his hands in conciliation. "No, Donna, you don't understand. This happened yesterday while we were on Ngengngner-3."

The most astute response she could offer was a stunned, "Huh?"

He swallowed audibly. "During the eclipse, you said someone bumped into you. You had that bruise…" He closed his eyes for a second. "Donna, I'm so sorry." He placed his hands upon her cheeks in one of the most tender gestures he'd ever offered her then said, "You can't have this baby."

She gawped up at him. "What?"

"It's not human. I should've realized sooner, when you told me you'd been hit here." His hands dropped, one brushing over her abdomen. "That's how they do it. A single jab, takes only a second, and the blastocyst is implanted directly into the uterine wall."

"That's ridiculous!" she retorted. "It'd have to go all the way through skin and muscle. I'd've felt that."

"There were traces of a specific drug in your blood. It acts like an anaesthetic, dulling the pain so that the host doesn't know immediately what's happened. It's how I knew who had done this to you."

"Host?" she repeated, fixated on the single word. "You're saying I'm a _host?"_

"Yes."

She shook her head vehemently. "No! I'm its mother."

"Technically, I suppose you are," he mused. "It needed your DNA to spur development from blastocyst to fetus…"

She gripped his wrists, hard. "Tell me what's going on. Who did this? What the hell's it all about? And tell me in plain English!"

He pulled away from her grasp, taking a step back, and she thought he was trying to distance himself from her.

"They're called the Lledo," he began. "They're an ancient race—older than mine. Once they were a placid people, living peacefully, thriving technologically, welcome on most planets. But over time, a great deal of time, their numbers began to dwindle. The females became less and less fertile, and the birthrate diminished significantly. They faced near-extinction. Turned out that an industrial chemical they'd used for centuries had caused genetic mutations that eventually rendered the women incapable of conceiving and bearing children.

"The threat of extinction changed them. They became aggressive and ultimately violent, resorting to kidnapping in the hopes of finding females who'd be able to breed for them. It rarely worked. They grew more ruthless, and in time they were banned from nearly every planet in the system. But they were still determined to reproduce, to keep their species going, and so their best scientists figured out a way to create blastocysts in the lab—blastocysts using only male DNA, using a process similar to parthenogenesis."

At her prompting look, he added, "That's the development of an egg without fertilization. Only in their case, they were able to accomplish it with only a male contribution. Quite an impressive scientific feat, actually." His glimmer of admiration faded quickly. "But the blastocysts couldn't develop beyond a few cells without a female contribution."

"You said the baby has my DNA, too," she remembered.

He nodded. "It does. At implantation, the blastocyst extracts the necessary chromosomal information from the host to begin full fetal development."

"And these Lledos—you're saying they're not human?"

"Genetically, no, although they're humanoid."

"So the baby'll look human?"

"I suppose it would," he conceded. "It would rely heavily on the host's DNA as it developed to ensure that it could be carried to term."

"Then it'll be mine, really." Amid the turbidity of the Doctor's words, the thought comforted her.

The Doctor shook his head emphatically. "No, Donna, it won't."

"I don't understand," she snapped. He wasn't making any sense to her.

He sighed. "The Lledo are not welcome on any planet now. They can't even enter airspace—virtually everyone has sensors to alert them to an attempt. Their ships are shot down immediately, no questions asked. That's how dangerous they are, how much they're feared. But they're still determined and still ruthless, and I believe they've found a way to get to Ngengngner-3. During those special eclipses, there's a tiny space between dimensions, and I think they use these to slip through in the hopes of finding hosts. I think that's why everyone was so panicked. They must know that the Lledo come and what they're capable of doing. They must've done it before."

"Yeah, maybe. But I still don't get why everyone's so scared of them. Maybe what they do isn't very ethical, but they're just trying to survive, and maybe sometimes it allows someone to have a baby, someone who might not get to otherwise…"

"Oh Donna," he said, his voice drenched in sadness, "you still don't understand."

"Then tell me!" she adjured.

"The Lledo are desperate to reproduce, to continue their race at any cost. They don't permit the hosts to keep their offspring."

She frowned. "What're you saying?"

"After the child is born, they come for it and take it away." Before she could open her mouth again, he continued, "And the pregnancy and birth are extremely difficult on the host. Most die in childbirth. But the Lledo don't care; all they want is the child. Once it's born, they'll use any means necessary to get it—and they'll go through anyone who tries to stop them."

Donna pressed her palm over her belly. "But they can't get this one. Earth's not in their solar system. They wouldn't be able to find us if I had it there."

He shook his head. "That's not an option. You can't set foot on any planet but Ngengngner-3 as long as you're carrying this child."

"You're talking bollocks!"

Undeterred by her protestations, he asked calmly, "What happened each time you attempted to leave the ship?"

She replied, "I got a headache."

"And they got worse each time. That's because the fetus is growing stronger. It's linked to your mind. It's genetically programmed to ensure that you don't attempt to go anywhere except Ngengngner-3. That's the only place it will allow you to go—the only place it wants you to be. And it's going to grow more insistent. Things will only get worse the longer you wait."

"Wait for what?" she asked.

"To terminate the pregnancy."

* * *

_To be continued…_


	6. Chapter 6

Appalled and astonished, Donna nearly shouted, "To what?"

"The pregnancy has to be terminated immediately. You're already in danger—physically and psychically—but if we end it now, there won't be any long-term damage." The Doctor looked away as he made the final statement.

Too stunned to speak, she watched as he turned toward the counter and picked up a syringe.

"This will be relatively painless," he told her.

"You can't be serious," she uttered.

"I've never been more serious," he replied morosely.

She wrapped her arms over her belly protectively. Every instinct screamed at her to safeguard the baby. It had her DNA, and it was in her body. She was its mother: It was her child. _ That_ made sense to her. The Doctor's convoluted explanation was ludicrous. Even if there were some truth to it, surely he'd got most of it wrong.

He took a step toward her.

"No," she said firmly.

"Donna, you don't—"

"I said no! You're not doing anything to me or to this baby until you prove what you're saying is true. It sounds like a load of rubbish to me."

He was clearly hurt by her mistrust, but he nodded with forced composure. "What sort of proof do you want? You saw the scans. You can see that fetal development's accelerated. I can show you the blood analyses, too."

"I'm not stupid, but you know I'm no scientist. You could show me those and tell me anything, and how 'm I to know if it's the truth or not?"

Taken aback, he blinked at her in bewilderment. "You think I'm lying about this?"

"Maybe not intentionally, but I don't think you've got it quite right. What if you're misinterpreting all this? What if you're wrong?"

"I wish I were. But I'm not."

"Then prove it."

"How?"

"Take us back to Ngengngner-3. Let me see if you're right about me being able to leave the ship there."

"And if I am, will that convince you about what has to be done?"

She slid off the couch and turned away from him. "Just take me there."

She could hear the concession in his tone as he said, "All right."

She waited until he'd left the infirmary then followed him out to the Console Room. The Doctor was already setting coordinates. She barely glanced at his cheerless face; she couldn't look at him. He wanted to take her joy from her, to obliterate it as though it never existed. But he didn't understand, couldn't know how she felt. There was already a bond with the child, a deep urge to protect it. The Time Lord was wrong, just wrong. He had to be.

The ship dematerialized gently, and Donna walked purposefully toward the door. She hesitated just a moment then pushed it open. She took a deep breath, feeling the clean, fresh air fill her lungs. And that was all she felt. Her head was fine. In fact, she seemed to get a small burst of energy that impelled her from the ship.

"Donna!" the Doctor cried.

Without so much as a glimpse back, she began to run. She needed to get as far away from the Doctor possible. Emotions surged through her, muddying her thoughts yet fueling her vitality, and she kept running, distancing herself from whatever sodden truth he would try to offer her.

She thought he called her name several times, but eventually all she could hear was the pounding of the blood in her ears. Finally she had to stop. She was panting and sweaty, and she realized she'd gone some distance. They'd landed back near the plaza, but now she was in a more crowded area with office buildings and stores.

She stood for a minute or two to catch her breath and her bearings. About two blocks ahead she saw a large building with a slender green crescent moon adorning one side. She remembered vaguely that the Doctor had mentioned this symbol as indicative of a hospital throughout the galaxies.

Almost without thinking, her feet carried her to the sleek edifice and through the lofty glass doors. Inside she found immaculate floors and opaque glass walls. The reception desk was a familiar sight, and she shuffled toward it.

A tidy middle-aged woman looked up and her and smiled. "How may I help you, dear?"

"I'm pregnant," Donna began. "But I've had these headaches, and I… I just want to check everything's all right. I'm not very far along."

The woman nodded sympathetically as she typed quickly on a flat keyboard. Donna provided her name and age. Apparently the planet had some form of socialized medicine, because she was not asked for any sort of insurance or even an NHS card. By the time the clerk had entered the basic data, a nurse appeared from a nearby hallway.

"Ms. Noble," she said with a quick nod of greeting. "Right this way, please."

Within a few minutes Donna was seated on an examination couch in a bright, clean room. The nurse checked her blood pressure and informed her that it was on the high side then asked about the pregnancy.

"Do you know how many weeks along you are?"

"I'm not sure," Donna replied. "Maybe a couple? I just had… took the test yesterday."

"And you're having headaches. That could be due to the blood pressure issue, but I'll draw some blood, and then we'll do a scan just to see how everything looks."

Donna sat patiently while the nurse obtained the blood sample, noting idly that the Doctor's methods were less painful and much more high-tech. The nurse disappeared for a minute then returned.

"If you'll just lie back and lift your shirt," she requested.

Donna readily complied. Her eyes focused the screen beside the couch as the nurse moved the sensor over her belly. Now she knew what to look for, and she could see a little dark mass that she instantly identified as her baby.

"There it is," said the nurse, pointing at the screen. "It looks like you're about six weeks along—midway through your first trimester. Headaches at this stage aren't uncommon, but of course you can't treat them with analgesics. You can try acupressure or meditation, though."

"Six weeks?" Donna repeated.

"Approximately."

"I didn't think," she began. "I mean, I didn't realize I was that far gone." Relief coursed through her.

"No? Well, everything looks fine for now. I can get a doctor to do a more thorough exam if you like, but we should wait for your blood work so she'll have all the information."

"Yeah, all right," Donna agreed.

The nurse handed her a tissue to wipe to cool gel from her abdomen. "I'll be back in a short while."

While she waited, Donna thought. Six weeks along. The Doctor was definitely wrong, then. He's somehow completely cocked up his fancy analysis. It must've been that bloke she'd met in the bar… That was no more than eight weeks ago. By the time the nurse returned, she was grinning from ear to ear.

The nurse, however, appeared quite agitated. She'd brought two men with her, and immediately Donna knew they weren't doctors or any sort of medical personnel. They were dressed in uniforms with heavy belts. Each wore some sort of weapon at his side.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"You have to leave," the nurse said curtly. She waved a print-out at her patient in a manner that could only be described as remonstrating.

"Leave?" Donna repeated, confused. "Why?"

The guards' hands moved to their weapons, but neither drew them. The nurse crossed her arms over her chest, and now she appeared angry.

Her voice shook as she said, "I've seen your blood work. I know what you… you're carrying."

Donna's eyes widened. "What d'you mean?" She understood the woman's intimation, but she didn't want to believe it.

"You know exactly what I mean! Why you'd even dare to come here and put all of us at risk—"

"I'm a traveler," Donna interposed quickly. "I'm not from here, just stopped off a couple of days ago. For the pudding."

The nurse and the guards eyed her dubiously, clearly trying to judge the veracity of her words.

"We just came to visit," she tried again. "And then there was this eclipse." She swallowed; her throat felt very tight.

"Then you don't know…" the nurse began. She lifted a trembling hand and swiped it over her eyes. "I'm sorry, Ms. Noble, but you have to leave this hospital immediately. Don't ever come back here. Don't try to go to any other hospital, either. The law requires that we submit your name and information to all hospitals on the planet. They won't treat you."

"Why?" Donna asked, her heart pounding furiously in her chest. It couldn't be true; it simply couldn't.

"You need to go now." The nurse shook her head dismissively, and the guards moved toward the couch.

Donna got down. "Fine, I'll go. No need to get rough." She gave the men an indignant glare then looked pointedly at the nurse, with just a hint of pleading in her voice. "Just tell me what's going on. Please."

The nurse sniffed then quickly reached out to grip her arm. "It's Lledo," she whispered, looking down at her patient's belly. She grimaced as she spoke the name. Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, "I'm sorry."

She released Donna then stepped back while the guards motioned for the apparent pariah to move toward the door. Red-faced and hot, she walked down the hall, the sentries immediately at her back. She tried to avoid looking at the staff she passed, but she had the strongest sense that they were all watching her with barely concealed antipathy.

By the time she stepped outside, tears stung her eyes. Her hands were balled into fists. She pressed them against her belly as she choked back a sob.

* * *

_To be continued_


	7. Chapter 7

He'd watch her run away from him. The Doctor supposed he couldn't really blame her. He'd given Donna the terrible news, and she was only human. Even his exceedingly rational mind had been troubled by his discovery about her pregnancy; he'd wanted this for her and had delighted in her initial happiness.

After she'd had the first headache, though, he'd begun to worry. Then the blood analyses had shown the tell-tale drug in her system. At first he'd hardly believed it. He'd thought the Lledo practically extinct. Yet a closer view of the scan had shown the full truth, and then he'd known.

He didn't know any other way to tell her except to impart the facts as clearly as he could. He should have anticipated her reaction, though. Of course she'd resist the information. The fetus's involvement would only further close her mind to the information he delivered.

So Donna ran. He tried to follow her, but she managed to lose herself in the crowds once she reached the commercial center of the city. He walked for some time, searching for his distraught companion, but eventually he turned back toward the ship. He hoped she'd return there once her emotions settled a bit.

He sat on a bench at the edge of the plaza and waited. The late afternoon light faded to dusk with a concomitant drop in temperature. It would be a chilly evening. Street lamps flickered to life, drawing the Doctor's gaze to their soft glow. Soon t would be completely dark.

The plaza gradually emptied as citizens returned to their homes. Apparently few people wished to remain outside after dark. He could hardly blame them. In the absence of light, the common individual would not be able to sense an impending eclipse and the possibility for danger it brought. He imagined that this culture had been primarily diurnal for some time.

His eyes skimmed the plaza repeatedly as the last visitors and employees departed. With most folks indoors, it wouldn't be terribly difficult to scan for anyone still outside. He should be able to locate Donna fairly easily.

He was just pushing himself to his feet when he saw a figure approaching slowly from the west. He squinted in the low light then tentatively waved a hand.

She didn't respond, but she continued shuffling closer. She had her arms wrapped around her body, and he could see that she was shaking. He strode toward her, shrugging out of his coat.

"Donna," he said, his voice heavy with compunction. "Are you all right?"

She looked up at him. Her eyes were swollen, and she seemed pale in the wan illumination. "What d'you think?" she murmured huskily.

He wrapped his coat around her and slid his arm across her shoulders. He began steering her toward the ship. However, she shook her head rather adamantly.

"Not there," she said.

He understood. She still wasn't ready to face the inevitable. He shifted his steps and veered toward the bench.

She sank down heavily and pulled the coat more tightly about her. She was still shivering, and the Doctor thought it was not entirely due to the cold. He took her hand cautiously; she did not protest. Her skin was very cool, and he could feel the rush of her pulse beneath his fingers.

"I'm sorry," he said for lack of anything better. Really, what else was there to say?

"I went to a hospital," she told him.

He waited, knowing she needed time to accept what she'd now learned irrefutably. He kept her hand in his, stroking her wrist softly with his thumb.

"They made me leave," she finally continued. "Booted me out's more like it." She probably would have laughed in any other instance. "Once they found out…" She shook her head. "They said no hospital here'll treat me. Is that true?" She looked up at him, her expression stricken.

He nodded. "Yes. They're terrified of the Lledo. If anything happened to the baby while you were in their care, there'd be severe repercussions. And once it's born, the Lledo will stop at nothing to claim it. It's happened before…" His voice trailed off as he recalled the carnage that usually followed a Lledo birth.

There had been a time when his people had stepped in, had intervened in an attempt to stop this merciless race in their efforts to reproduce. Now there was no one left to curtail the damage. There was only one Time Lord to take responsibility for what had to be done.

"So what 'm I supposed to do?" Donna asked "What's any woman supposed to do?"

"The ones who live here go off by themselves and wait for the child to be born," he told her as gently yet straightforwardly as he could. "They're forced to remove themselves from the rest of society, for the good of everyone else."

"And when the baby's born?" she prompted.

He shook his head. "The Lledo come as soon as they can, as soon as the next eclipse occurs. The infants are extremely robust immediately after birth and can survive on their own for some time."

"And the mothers?"

He suspected she already knew the answer. He'd told her earlier. Still, he replied, "They rarely survive. The pregnancy is extremely difficult on a human body, but the fetus secretes hormones that keep the mother alive until she delivers. After that…" He didn't need to finish.

Tears filled Donna's eyes again. "But she's given it life. She's carried it and kept it safe."

"She has," he agreed kindly. "But that doesn't matter to the Lledo."

She remained quiet for a little while; he could see that she was thinking. Finally she said, "The nurse at the hospital told me I was about six weeks along. You said that the pregnancy was accelerated, right?"

"Yes. That's one of the main reasons it's so difficult on the mother. Human bodies aren't designed to change that quickly. The physical strain is incredible and does a great deal of damage."

She was mulling over something, her fingers tapping a few times against his hand. "One month in one day. Does that mean the entire pregnancy takes only nine days?"

"Not quite. Initial development is very rapid, but it slows after a time. Even so, gestation takes less than seven weeks."

"Seven weeks?" she repeated. Her free hand had moved to her belly. She whispered, "In only seven weeks!"

He tightened his grip fractionally, just enough to draw her attention. "Donna," he said firmly, "you understand now. You know what would happen. And you know what needs to be done."

She shot to her feet and tugged her hand away. With surprisingly quick steps she hurried back to the ship, slipping inside before he could catch up with her. He found her waiting to close the doors as soon as he entered.

"Get us away from here," she enjoined, shoving him toward the ramp.

"Donna, what—"

"Just do it!"

There was an urgency to her tone. Still, he hesitated, not knowing what she intended.

"Before they find out," she finished, bustling up behind him and nudging him again.

"Oh. Right."

He sent the ship into the Void then turned to her. She'd settled on the jump seat already.

"We need to go back to the infirmary," he told her, offering his hand to help her rise.

She looked up with a bewildered expression. "Why?"

"For the injection."

"You stupid alien git!" She slapped his arm, hard. "You don't understand. I can do this. I can carry this baby to term and have it."

"Donna, no—"

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "For a genius, you're awfully thick!" She swept her hand toward the console. "Time ship, remember? State of temporal grace in here, right? The Lledo can't get in. They can't even find us if we make sure we stay in a different time."

He wasn't following her line of reasoning at all. In response to his perplexed look, she added, "As long as I remain in here, I'll be safe. In nine weeks, I'll be a mum!"

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair in vexation. "Haven't you been listening to me at all?" His patience was wearing thin in the face of his companion's obstinacy.

"Yeah, dumbo, _I_ have. You're not listening to yourself, though. You say that the mothers have to give birth all alone. No wonder most of 'em don't make it. They haven't got a super-duper high-tech hospital at their disposal and a super-knowledgeable doctor to take care of 'em." She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're always saying you're a genius, you know everything about everything. That's true, isn't it?"

She was a clever one. She knew she'd appeal to his innate vanity with that last comment. She was trying to trap him, get him to admit that his skills could get her through the pregnancy and birth. But she still didn't understand fully.

"Just about," he allowed.

"Right. So you could see me through the pregnancy and deliver the baby safely."

He exhaled slowly and deliberately. She refused to accept the unavoidable, and he didn't know how else to convince her. While there was some kernel of truth to her words, it was still an abysmal idea.

He knew that he could administer the injection against her will. It wouldn't be difficult to subdue her either psychically or pharmaceutically. But he abhorred the thought of doing that. She would never forgive him for such an action. He wanted—no, needed—her acceptance and begrudging approval. The course of action was terrible enough already. He wasn't certain he could do it without her consent.

She was watching him expectantly. Her eyes were bright with anticipation and hope. Finally he gave her a non-committal nod and took her elbow to encourage her to rise.

"You're still chilled," he said reasonably, "and I know you're exhausted. Go and have a warm bath and rest for a while. We'll talk about this some more later."

"But it'll work," she reiterated. "You know it will."

He decided that no response was the best he could do. He simply rested a gentle hand against her back and said, "Get some rest. You'll need it."

She seemed to take that as confirmation. She walked down the ramp without further comment, but she paused before entering the corridor to turn back and offer him a grateful smile.

He pretended not to see as he dipped his head toward the console. There was only one way to convince her—and, if he were really, brutally honest, himself too—that this baby simply must not be.

The Doctor spent some time reading through records he pulled up on one of the ship's computers. With heavy hearts, he set new coordinates but did not complete the dematerialization sequence. He'd give Donna time to rest. He'd meant what he'd said earlier: She would need her strength for the events she would soon witness.

* * *

_To be continued…_


	8. Chapter 8

After soaking in the bath for a good long while, Donna took a nap. She wasn't sure how long she slept, but she awoke feeling sluggish and slightly confused once again. She rubbed a hand over her face then allowed her thoughts to focus.

For just one moment she nearly panicked as memories returned clearly to her. But then she remembered that she'd devised a clever plan. It was so simple, really; she couldn't imagine why the Doctor hadn't thought of it first.

She got out of bed and washed her face then ran a brush through her hair. Had it gotten longer? It certainly felt thicker. She glanced down at the brush to see a clump of strands clinging to the bristles. She shrugged. Must be some funny effect of the pregnancy. It didn't matter, really. The increased thickness would make up for a little extra loss.

She was hungry again. She made her way to the kitchen and prepared tea, juice, scrambled eggs, and toast slathered with peanut butter. She wolfed down the food, hoping to assuage the gnawing in her belly.

She was just gulping the last mouthful of tea when the nausea hit. With a resigned groan, Donna heaved herself to her feet and hurried back to her room. She made it just in time to hunch over the toilet and say a final farewell to her breakfast.

Unlike the previous instance, this bout included several minutes of painful retching even after her stomach was empty. She coughed and spluttered, gasping for breath after the tenth or eleventh severe muscle contraction. It hurt—everything hurt, from her aching stomach to her tight chest. Tears prickled in her eyes.

"Donna."

The voice was soft, almost as though he could sense the dull throbbing in her temples. She didn't bother to look up; that would require too much effort. The Doctor knelt beside her and rubbed his hand in small, firm circles over her back.

"Small breaths," he advised, obviously aware of the trouble she was experiencing.

His other hand pressed gently over her chest, setting up a steady rhythm that she found herself following with each inhalation. Soon she was breathing normally again. The nausea had subsided, too. She sank down on her knees.

The Doctor looped an arm around her, and she permitted her head to rest against his chest. She was aware of the fingers he wrapped around her wrist and the palm that settled across her brow for a few seconds, but she was too exhausted to care.

She rested in his arms for a little while. At some point he reached up and turned on the tap, managing to wet a flannel then wring it out with one hand. He wiped the warm cloth over her face then moved her hair aside to rest it against the back of her neck.

She was coming back to herself. She glanced up at him to see that he was frowning and staring at his hand. She looked down. A small clump of her hair was matted in his fingers.

She reached up to feel her head. Her hair was still thick. "More's coming in," she assured him.

"That's not—" He stopped himself. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. Think it's passed now."

He nodded then helped her to her feet. Her back ached, and her belly felt heavy. She rubbed a hand over her abdomen. She could already notice the new, soft swell. She thought she was just beginning to show.

The Time Lord's gaze had followed her hand. He didn't say anything about it, though. Instead, he gestured toward the bed.

"Sit down for a few minutes," he suggested.

She complied. Without the benefit of her breakfast, she felt weak and a bit jittery. "Suppose I should have some crackers or something," she said.

"This will do for now." He reached into his pocket and removed a large syringe.

Immediately she scooted back and lifted her hands. "What the hell's that?"

He kept his gaze steady. "Just some concentrated nutrition. I came to see how you were and heard you being sick, so I prepared this for you in the infirmary."

She eyed the syringe warily. It contained a pale orange liquid. She was sure the other injection he'd shown her was colorless.

"You're going to have trouble keeping food down for a while," he continued. "That means the fetus will rob more and more of your body's stored nutrients, depleting you of vital minerals. This will prevent that and circumvent any damage to your organs."

He sounded sincere enough. And he'd agreed with her plan, hadn't he? He knew that she could carry and bear the child with his help. That's what he was doing now: Helping her.

"Yeah." She shoved up her sleeve and offered him her arm.

He administered the injection quickly. "Do you feel up to a walk?" he asked.

Indeed, whatever he'd given her seemed to have an instant effect. She nodded. "All right. I still wanna take a look in that library of yours."

But he'd already turned away and was moving toward the door. "Come on," he urged.

Donna got to her feet and followed him down the corridor. Sometimes the ship still felt like a massive maze to her. When they stepped into the Console Room, she was a bit surprised. She was even more surprised when he took her hand and led her toward the exterior door.

"What's going on?" she asked, stopping about two meters from the portal.

"It's all right." He pulled a chain from his pocket. She saw something resembling a flat metal card dangling from the end. He slipped the chain over her head.

"What's this?"

He nodded toward the door. "You need to keep it on at all times. It'll prevent problems while we're out there."

Oh, he was a clever one, all right. He'd figured out some way to allow her to go outside the ship, some high-tech device to ward off the headaches. She grinned at him. "Yeah. Thanks."

"Don't take it off," he said. "No matter what."

"'Course I won't."

He opened the door and waited as she walked a bit cautiously toward it. Her head felt fine, so she followed him outside.

She'd been expecting Chiswick. She blinked in surprise. She saw a futuristic city stretching over a plain. He'd landed the ship in the arid hills, away from the urbanized areas.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"Someplace you need to be. Come with me, Donna." He took her hand and began to walk, urging her along at his side.

He was being very cryptic. She looked at his face, thinking it dispassionate a first. But there was something beneath the surface, lurking under the stony expression. She couldn't quite read it, though.

Still, it felt really good to be out of the ship, strolling along in the fresh air. The landscape left a bit to be desired; scrubby brush and low, grey trees seemed the extent of the flora. Even so, it was natural and beautiful in its own ascetic way.

The city was at least two kilometers away. She wondered if they were going to walk all the way there. At the moment, she was revitalized. Vigor coursed through her, filling her with a mild euphoria.

They rounded one of the hills, and a cluster of low buildings came into view. "What's this then?" she asked.

"You'll see."

His grip on her hand tightened fractionally, and his pace slowed as he walked toward the nearest edifice. Donna could see a door and several narrow windows. Something moved inside.

He dropped her hand to remove and adjust the sonic screwdriver. A few moments after he aimed it at the lock, she heard the telltale click of disengagement. He returned the device to his pocket.

A glint caught her eye, and her gaze moved to his neck. She saw a chain, just like the one she wore, disappearing into his jacket.

"You've got one too?" she asked.

He followed her gaze. "Yes."

"I don't understand. Why do you need one?"

"So that we won't be seen."

"Huh?"

He gestured toward her pendant. "It's a perception filter. Prevents our being noticed unless someone's really looking."

"But why's that matter? And where are we, anyway?"

He pushed open the door. "Come and see."

They stepped inside. Donna saw something resembling a gymnasium. Various pieces of equipment lined the walls, and mats covered much of the floor. A group of a dozen or so little children was just entering the room.

The Doctor kept himself and Donna against the wall nearest the exterior door, holding a finger to his lips to indicate that she needed to remain silent. Perplexed, she shook her head then focused her attention upon the children.

They looked about three or four years old. Immediately she could tell that they weren't human. While each had two arms, two legs, and five digits per appendage, the torsos were longer and narrower than a human child's. Their facial features were different, too. High, prominent foreheads nearly overshadowed deep-set, dark eyes. Their noses were small and pointy, and their mouths were wide with narrow lips.

But it wasn't the differences in physical appearance that struck her the most. It was the behavior of these young creatures that clearly distinguished them from humans. At first she didn't quite realize why, but as she watched she noticed that their play was not cooperative, as one would expect in young children.

Several pieces of equipment appeared most popular, and the youngsters clustered about them in small groups. There were no attempts to share or to play together, despite the obvious intent of the equipment. Instead, the children shoved and pushed, growling and glowering at each other with enough overt enmity to make Donna cringe. Their dark eyes showed no amiability, no camaraderie, not even a basic sense of socialization. All she saw was intense desire to fulfill individual needs.

The Doctor nudged her gently to draw her attention to the center of the gym. Two adults sharing the same basic physiognomy as the children stood watching their charges. One pointed at the group furthest from the unseen visitors.

Donna's gaze followed. Two children—the youngest of the entire group, it appeared—were tossing a ball back and forth. The adults stormed over and pulled the youths apart with scathing words. Each child was taken aside for a private conversation, then they were pushed toward each other.

All traces of solidarity had vanished. The smaller of the two boys reached out and raked his nails savagely across his former playmate's face. The other child shrieked in pain and indignation and retaliated with a swift kick to the shins.

The adults watched for a minute or so then pulled the children apart. The expressions on the older individuals' faces were a strange, disturbing mix of satisfaction and seething. Donna felt a shiver run through her entire body.

"God," she whispered, reaching for the Time Lord's hand again. "Where the hell are we?"

"The only other place you can be without upsetting the fetus," he replied softly.

Suddenly she understood. "This… this is where the Lledo live?"

He nodded. "You're watching a typical play session."

She shook her head. "It's sick," she hissed.

"Do you want to see what the older ones do? Or the adults?"

"I don't understand," she began.

He took her arm and led her outside, opening and closing the door carefully. "Donna," he said, pulling her toward a sparse copse, "this is what they do with the children. This is how they're raised. From day one, the only goal is single-minded survival. This is what they've become—what they are."

"What're you trying to say? Why did you bring me here?"

"So you can see why you can't have any part in propagating this race."

She took a step back from him, pressing her hands over her abdomen. "No. He won't be like that."

The Doctor moved toward her. His expression was tender yet sad. "He will. That's exactly what he'll be."

Again she gave a firm shake of her head. A few strands of hair flew free and floated to the ground. "He won't. He'll have my DNA, and I'll be the one raising him—"

"He'll overwrite your DNA nearly completely once he's born. Didn't you notice how similar all of those children, as well as the adults, looked? They all have different mothers, but the Lledo DNA becomes dominant as soon as the offspring are free of the host."

"How? How's that happen?"

"The brain triggers the release of the chemicals necessary to build new protein chains within the DNA."

"And how's the brain know to do that?"

"I'm not certain. Could be hormonal, pheromonal, instinctual…"

"But however it happens, it's caused by being around the others, yeah? But if he's not around them, it might not happen, right?"

"It will. It's inevitable."

"You don't know that!" she protested. "If he's raised by me, maybe his DNA will become more like mine. And even if it doesn't, his behavior, his feelings, the way he treats other people—all those'll be things he learns from his environment, from the good, loving environment I'll give him."

"Nature versus nurture," the Doctor mused, contemplative for a few moments. Then he looked at her pointedly. "There's a great deal to be said for the nature side. Even among you humans, some individuals are predisposed to certain things, such as mental or physical illness. It's coded into their DNA. It's unavoidable and will be expressed eventually. Schizophrenia's—"

"Stop it!" Donna shouted. "Just shut up. You're talking bollocks. You don't know. You can't know for sure."

Undeterred, he placed a gentle hand upon her shoulder and refused to move it even as she attempted to jerk away. "I'm afraid I can, and I do. My people knew. They saw it first-hand. Using their knowledge of space and time, they were able to rescue some of the women impregnated by the Lledo. The babies were born on my planet, among people very, very different from the Lledo. Yet they still became belligerent, ruthless, intolerant. The way they were raised made no difference. Their entire existence has been tainted, poisoned by endless generations of merciless conduct."

He turned away from her then, running a hand through his hair. Donna noticed that his fingers trembled slightly; his voice did, too. Still, she remained resentful of his refusal to consider her opinion. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yeah. And?"

He spun back to face her. His expression was utterly bereft. "My people—the Time Lords—were dedicated to maintaining stasis within the universe. They developed time travel so that they could prevent the wrongs from happening. They were the guardians of peace, harmony, fairness. And the Lledo were the antithesis of all those things."

She frowned. "So your people, the Time Lords, they did what? Tried to stop the Lledo?"

"Yes… from reproducing through their unnatural, barbaric means. The Time Lords helped other planets to develop early warning systems to track any Lledo ships that came close to their atmospheres. If they couldn't find hosts, they wouldn't be able to reproduce."

"So their race'd die out. But that's like a form of genocide!"

He drew a breath and closed his eyes. "Maybe it is. Or maybe if faced with certain extinction they'd find another way… I don't know." His eyes opened; they were abnormally bright. "But I do know that I'm the last one left to see that this," his gaze lowered to her abdomen, "doesn't happen again."

Her hands clenched over her belly. "No. I can help him, keep him human—"

"He won't be. He can't be." She had never heard such abject sadness in his voice.

She swallowed against the terrible lump in her throat. Her own eyes were filling with tears, and her chest was growing tight, constricting her pounding heart. "Just let me try. Please Doctor, let me try!"

She saw a tear glisten against his cheek. And then suddenly his head whipped around and his hand closed over her arm. "Run, Donna!" he cried, nearly tugging her off her feet.

* * *

_To be continued…_


	9. Chapter 9

Donna gulped in a breath and looked back at the building. Two adults were standing in the doorway staring at them. One pointed directly at the visitors.

"There! Do you see them now?" the taller individual asked.

The other squinted. "Yes!"

They lurched forward, their long legs carrying them swiftly over the dry ground. Donna ran at the Doctor's side, struggling to breathe, each step sending a stab of pain through her chest.

"Faster!" the Time Lord adjured. "You have to go faster!"

"Trying!" she gasped, glancing back to find their pursuers gaining ground with alarming speed. "But they won't hurt me. I'm carrying their child," she panted.

"If they catch you, you'll die here."

She knew he was right. She had to get away; that was the only hope for the child. Because she still harbored a shred of belief that she could make a difference.

"I can feel him!" one of the men shouted. "Stop!" he commanded. "You have our child!"

His voice was cold and demanding, and his face was a hard mask of brutal determination. If she hadn't been sweating so profusely, Donna would have shivered at the revulsion the native engendered deep within her being.

But there wasn't time for any of that. The Doctor was pulling her along with enough force to cause an ache in her shoulder. Her wrist hurt, too, but his grip only tightened as her steps momentarily faltered.

"Keep up!" he pleaded. "Please, Donna!"

She forced herself to find a little more strength, a bit more energy, and her feet slammed into the hard earth. She began to glance back, but he said, "No! Keep going!"

So she did. Donna ran for all she was worth and then some. When the TARDIS came into view, dark against the pale grey sky, she nearly cried with relief. Indeed, her eyes were hot and wet, and for a moment she couldn't see at all.

That was all it took for her foot to catch in one of the dry roots tangling over the ground. Suddenly she was falling, slamming into the packed earth. All remaining breath left her body, and her head struck something unyielding.

Her vision blurred and darkened. Still she was aware of the frantic tugging at her arm.

"Get up!" the Doctor entreated.

She tried to take a breath, but she only choked out a painful cough. He was trying to help her to her knees, pulling her uncooperative body up with unwieldy motions. She felt so clumsy, though. And those damned spots kept threatening to obscure her vision completely.

"Give her to us," she heard one of the Lledo say. His voice cut through her like jagged shards of ice, yet she felt an unbidden yearning to obey.

She attempted to turn, to swivel on her shaky legs. The Time Lord caught her wrist, restraining her. As her eyes finally focused, she saw the two humanoids striding toward her. She lifted her arms toward them.

"No!" the Doctor cried.

He dropped her arm and reached into his pocket. The Lledo were mere meters away. And then suddenly pain lanced through Donna's head, and for a few moments she felt completely disconnected from her body.

Her legs moved automatically as the Doctor wrapped an arm about her waist and hauled her along with him. Her feet stomped woodenly over the earth. She couldn't speak, couldn't think, could only do…

The sky seemed to darken to obscurity. She could find sanctuary in that deep gloom. She wanted to embrace it, to step into in and never look back… Until the gentle, soothing hum washed through her.

Gradually awareness returned to her. She was leaning against the wall, inside the TARDIS. She breathed heavily, her chest still sore and her lungs feeling sluggish. The Doctor's anxious face loomed before her, all sharp angles and tight lines.

She drew another shaky breath then gave in to the urge to sink down onto the floor. Her legs had turned to jelly, and she seemed to melt into a pool against the cool metal grating.

The Doctor lowered himself fluidly down beside her. She realized he'd taken her wrist and was peering into her eyes.

"You took a nasty thump to the head," he was telling her.

Now aware that her forehead hurt, she reached up to find blood on her brow. "Yeah," she replied, still slightly dazed.

Blue light flashed in her eyes. He was doing something with the sonic screwdriver. "No sign of concussion," he reported. "How're you feeling?"

She rubbed a hand over her sternum. "What happened? I thought I wouldn't get the headaches there."

He exchanged the screwdriver for his stethoscope. "Is that what it felt like? Same as the others?" he asked, appearing quite interested in her answer.

"Yeah, pretty much. Little different, I suppose. It was weird, actually—kind of like some sort of out of body experience."

He arched an eyebrow at her as he pressed the stethoscope against her chest. She waited a few moments until he'd finished.

"Right. No permanent damage done," he told her, clearly relieved. He tucked the instrument away then produced a packaged alcohol wipe from another pocket. He tore it open and dabbed at the wound on her forehead.

"So what'd you do?" she asked, wincing at the sting. "Why'd I feel like that?"

His cool fingers probed gently around the wound. "The only way I could think of to temporarily startle them was to sever their psychic connection to the fetus. I didn't realize it when we first arrived, but they could feel him, sense him—the perception filter didn't prevent that. When I cut their link it was rather disconcerting and distracted them enough for us to get away."

"How'd you do that?"

"Setting 611 disrupts low-level psionic transmissions."

That explained just about nothing. "Yeah, right," she replied wearily. She was tired, but at least she felt whole again. That strange disjointedness was gone.

He leaned back against the wall, stretching his long legs out before him. He fixed his gaze on the lofty ceiling as he asked, "Do you still feel the same, after seeing those two and seeing what the children turn into?"

She shook her head tiredly. "But maybe he won't."

The Doctor did not look at her. Instead he rose slowly and reached for her hand to help her up. He led her to the jump seat then turned toward the console. He began setting coordinates.

"We going somewhere else?" she asked, perplexed. Then a slow sort of anger began to build. "'Cause I don't need to see any more of them. You made your point."

"Did I? Then I suppose I can take us away now," he intoned blandly.

She felt the ship dematerialize. They'd be safely in the Void in a few seconds. That was good, because she really was exhausted. Another kip was definitely in order. She began to rise, but the ship gave an unexpected lurch.

"Oi! What's that?" she asked.

"One last stop, Donna. There's one more thing you need to see."

"I told you I don't want to go back there! It won't change my mind."

"That's not where we are." He held out his hand. "This will only take a minute."

She hesitated. "Where are we?"

"Please, Donna. Just come and see."

His tone was imploring, and she found she couldn't say no. So she took his hand and followed him down the ramp to the door. When it opened, she was surprised to see the bustling plaza on Ngengngner-3. They'd landed on the opposite side, however, some small distance from their previous location.

"Hey! What's that?" she asked, pointing through the crowds. She could see a glimpse of blue.

"The TARDIS," he replied placidly. "And there we are, too."

She watched in fascination for a moment. She saw herself eating pudding.

"You can't let her see you," he said.

"Yeah. But what're we doing here?"

Suddenly the crowd began to stir. The Doctor guided her out of the ship, skirting the edge of the plaza as the people started to rush by, seeking shelter from the impending eclipse.

"Doctor, what's going on?" she asked.

"Just watch, Donna. Please." He handed her his glasses. She looked at them without understanding. "Put them on. You'll be able to see in the dark."

So she did. She saw herself dash after the child as darkness descended. She watched everyone crowd into the shops as she reached for the little boy. She'd just taken his hand when a figure appeared before her. The child gasped in horror and tried to pull away, but she held his hand securely and told him everything would be all right.

And then the apparition pushed her down and pressed something long and shiny to her abdomen. It was over in an instant, but she'd seen it, witnessed the moment she was impregnated.

As the darkness faded, people began to emerge from the shops.

"Look at their faces," the Doctor instructed.

Her other self was preoccupied with the boy and hadn't noticed the stricken, terrified, horror-filled expressions on those who saw her alone in the empty plaza. She watched the child's parents as they found him; their faces showed abject terror at the sight of her.

Donna felt sick to her stomach. She hadn't seen any of it before. She hadn't known…

The Doctor was leading her away, behind the buildings and back to the TARDIS. Nausea was beginning to build again, coiling deep within her belly. She pressed a hand over her abdomen, worried that she'd be sick out here.

As they stepped inside the ship, however, the queasiness subsided. A dull ache replaced it. She felt very cold and awfully weak.

"Need to lie down," she informed the Time Lord, brushing past him before he could reply.

Even so, she heard him say her name. Perhaps he sounded slightly urgent; she was too tired and too sore to care.

She stumbled to her room, leaning against the wall for a moment so that she wouldn't fall. Gradually she became aware of the dampness against her leg. Idly she reached down to touch her thigh. When she saw the crimson smear on her palm, she blinked in surprise.

"Oh my God," she gasped. She took a step forward then stumbled, doubling over in pain.

* * *

_To be continued…_


	10. Chapter 10

Something was wrong, very wrong. Immediately Donna was worried for the baby. She had to protect him, keep him safe. She drew a shallow breath, gripped the door frame, and stood. Keeping one hand against the wall for support, she stumbled down the corridor.

The Doctor was just walking out of the Console Room as she rounded the corner. His eyes widened when he saw her.

Before he could speak, she gasped out, "Help me!"

Pain sliced through her, intense enough that she barely felt the terrible chill that had enveloped her entire body. Her hands were pressed over her womb, and her expression was supplicating as she looked to the Time Lord in desperation.

His eyes swept over her, then he was at her side. She leaned heavily against the wall. Swiftly he pressed two fingers over the pulse point in her throat while the other hand slid down to rest against her abdomen. Even the gentle pressure he exerted was too much and caused her to cry out.

She saw him swallow and saw the gravity of his expression. "Donna," he said, his voice sounding very strange, then without another word he ushered her to the infirmary, keeping a firm arm around her so that she didn't fall.

He helped her onto the examination couch. She sank back and watched through tear-blurred eyes as he switched on the not-ultrasound. Her trembling hands pushed up her shirt. Her fingers shook too much to untie the drawstring on her track pants, though. He completed that small task quickly then ran the wand over her clammy skin. His gaze moved from her belly to her face to the screen. She tried to look at the monitor, to discern what was happening, but her vision was too fuzzy.

She waited breathlessly, her heart hammering and her entire body quavering as the Doctor shifted his full attention to the screen. Then he set the wand aside and reached for the device that took blood samples. That done, he snapped it into the diagnostic computer and stepped away to pull open a couple of drawers.

"Doctor!" she wheezed, "what's happening to me?"

He turned stiffly toward her. His eyes were huge in his pale face. "I need more time," he replied curtly.

She tried to lie still while he attached some sort of monitor to her wrist then checked the results swirling across the computer screen. Her pain had not grown any worse, but she felt colder than ever.

"Tell me what's wrong," she implored finally.

The Doctor moved back to the couch. His hand pushed nervously through his hair. "Placental abruption," he said.

That meant next to nothing to Donna. "What's that?"

"The placenta is separating from the uterine wall."

"But the baby needs it—"

"I know." His eyes flicked to the band on her wrist.

She noticed tiny lights flashing frenetically and realized they mirrored the erratic, rapid beating of her heart. She wanted to ask him more questions, be sure he could help the baby, but breathing was growing increasingly difficult. One hand convulsed against her chest.

The Doctor pulled a small oxygen mask from beneath the couch and placed it over her nose and mouth. "This will help," he said.

As her breathing eased somewhat, she reached up for the mask, intending to speak again. But he placed a gentle hand over hers to prevent the movement.

"You need to leave it on," he told her. "And you need to listen to me."

She shook her head in feeble protest.

"Please, Donna, just listen."

The exigency in his voice frightened her, and she gave a small nod of consent. He took her hand in his, his thumb running over her wrist. He looked at the monitor again then shifted his gaze back to her.

"During those few minutes when the psionic connection was cut," he began, "your link with the fetus was disrupted, too. Remember I told you that the fetus was tenacious, that it would essentially take over your body's functioning to ensure its survival, to guarantee its live birth. It uses its psychic link with you to do that. When the link broke, your body automatically rejected the fetus, immediately recognizing it as something foreign, something that didn't belong. That weakened the link; it's not fully reestablished, and with the partial abruption, it'll remain tenuous. But it's still strong enough to attempt to control your body. The fetus is making hormones surge through your system, trying to correct the abruption, but the process isn't coordinated. It's causing you to go into shock—that's why you feel so cold. If we permit this to continue, your organs will likely fail; they can't sustain this sort of activity indefinitely."

She was frantic to speak. She tried to push off the mask, but he shook his head again and caught her wrist.

Bluntly he said, "Eventually your brain will shut down, but the fetus' influence will maintain basic cardiac and pulmonary function sufficient to keep your body alive. The damage will be severe and possibly irreparable. Even with all this," his hand swept across the room, "I may not be able to save you. And even if I do, you'll probably have permanent brain damage, and your reproductive system will be destroyed."

This time when she attempted to lift the mask he did not try to stop her. "But he'll be safe?" she whispered hoarsely.

He swallowed audibly. "Probably."

"And I will have had a child. I'll have done that."

He leaned in and gripped her shoulder, easing back when he saw her wince. "At what cost to you, Donna?"

"Doesn't matter."

His cool palm cupped her cheek. "Think about what you've seen, what this child would become. There's virtually no chance that you'd be able to raise him; he'd have to go back to the Lledo."

She thought for one moment that his words made sense, but then an overwhelming urge to keep her child safe swept through her.

Now both his hands were on her face. "And even if you don't care about what he becomes, think about everyone on Ngengngner-3. You saw their faces. This child will do that to them. He'll bring terror and panic to an entire planet."

She remembered the wretched fear she'd seen; the nearly hysterical reaction to the eclipse; the loathing at the hospital. This baby was inextricably linked to all of that. Yet he was her child, and it was her job to keep him safe, whatever the cost. She knew she might pay with her life, but wasn't that what a mother did?

"Donna, please," the Doctor said, his voice suddenly husky, "let me save you."

She was drawn to his gaze by the profound sadness in his tone. She saw that his eyes were unnaturally bright, and as she watched a tear slid down his cheek. The desolation of an entire planet was reflected on his face.

"What…" she stammered, barely able to speak the words, "what would you need…to do?"

"Nothing more than to let nature take its course. Let your body do what it's trying to do, what it _needs_ to do."

She was shaking almost violently and could barely utter the single word, "How?"

"I just need to block the link completely again."

"No… drugs?"

"For this, no."

Her head ached furiously. She wanted to say the word he was so desperate to hear, but her jaw felt frozen and her tongue impossibly thick.

"Donna?" he entreated again. "Please."

She couldn't speak anymore, but she met his gaze and gave a single nod. He squeezed her hand then reached into his pocket to withdraw the sonic screwdriver. After switching it on, he set it carefully on the nearest counter.

Donna felt as though her heart would burst, and she was certain she'd never been so cold in her entire life. She was only vaguely aware of the Time Lord's actions as he set a soft, warm blanket over her. She barely felt the prick as he inserted an IV port in her hand, but she heard his gentle voice telling her that he was just giving her medicine to ease the strain on her heart and lungs.

Her heart gradually slowed, and her breaths came with less effort as the chill began to leave her. She was growing sleepy, too, and realized that the pain had dulled.

"It's all right," he said softly, brushing a hand over her hair. "Everything's going to be fine now."

She had to believe that it was.

* * *

_To be continued…_


	11. Chapter 11

Donna had been asleep for seven hours, sixteen minutes, and forty-three seconds. Initially the anesthesia had kept her under, but as that wore off her exhausted body slipped into natural slumber.

The Doctor checked her IV again. Her fluid volume was up, but she would still require at least one more bag of plasmaline solution. She'd lost a significant amount of blood due to the hemorrhaging. He'd finally administered clotting drugs, once he'd been certain that all the foreign tissue had been expelled.

She'd been so frightfully pale and still. When a hint of color returned to her cheeks, he'd felt immensely relieved. She'd begun to improve gradually yet steadily after that. Now she was clean and dressed in a soft, loose nightshirt, resting comfortably in the infirmary bed. He sat in a hard plastic chair at her side.

His gaze moved from her face to the monitor above the bed. Her heart rate was increasing fractionally; she'd wake soon. He stood on stiff legs and made one more pass through the large room, checking that he'd removed all traces of the ordeal from view. The examination couch was clean again, and the floors were spotless. All of the equipment, save the IV stand and monitor at the bed, was tucked away.

There would be nothing overt to remind Donna of her experience. He hoped that would make it a little less painful for her. For the fifth or sixth time, he lifted his hand toward her face. He could take the memories from her, erase it all so that she would never need to know. It was tempting—sorely tempting—but probably more so for his sake than hers.

He lowered his arm slowly and sat down again. He watched her face, noting the increased eye movement as she rose slowly to consciousness. Donna took a deep, steady breath, and he permitted his mouth to twitch into a half smile.

Her eyes opened. She was a little bleary, still weak, and possibly sore, though he'd added an analgesic to her IV solution. Her sleepy gaze moved over the white ceiling then lowered to roam languidly over him.

"Donna." The relief in his voice almost surprised him.

"Doctor?" She squinted in confusion.

"You're in the infirmary," he reminded her. "You're going to feel a bit peaky for a while, but that's to be expected. Are you in any pain?"

She seemed to consider the question. "No, don't think so."

He could tell when the memories returned in full. Her placidly dazed expression changed abruptly to one of distress. Her arms moved beneath the blankets, and he knew she was tentatively touching her abdomen.

"You're all right," he reassured her. "Everything's going to be fine."

She blinked at the sudden surge of tears. "The baby?"

He shook his head and took her hand. "Do you remember what happened?"

Donna closed her eyes. "It hurt so much, and I was so cold. I was scared, terrified for all those people. So I told you… let you do it." Her eyes opened to meet his. "You did it."

"Once the connection was broken, your body took over. It knew what to do."

Her hand moved beneath the sheet again. "I don't feel anything…"

"I've given you painkillers. We'll keep those up for a few days to be sure you don't experience any discomfort."

"Am I…" She seemed reticent to articulate her thoughts—a rarity for Donna Noble. He understood, though, and waited patiently until she spoke again. "What happened? I mean, what'd you have to do to me?"

"Essentially, you miscarried. I gave you medication to maintain fluid balance and regulate your respiration and heart rate." He touched the IV line. "This is a saline and plasma solution. I'm going to give you one more bag when this one's finished, then you should be back to normal."

"Will I?"

"What do you mean?"

She pulled her arms from beneath the blanket so that she could rest her hands over her belly in plain view. "You said… I think I remember you telling me that there could be damage?"

"If the pregnancy had continued any further, there would've been. But you're already healing, and you're going to be just fine. There's nothing to suggest that you won't be able to have a child one day."

"Really?"

He rested his hand over hers. "Really."

She swiped at her wet cheeks with her hand.

"Here," he said, reaching for a damp cloth on the bedside table, "let me." Gently he wiped away her tears.

"I can see it all so clearly now," she told him softly. "But I couldn't before. It was like I couldn't see anything but him."

"That was the psychic connection. It definitely affected your thoughts."

Abruptly she reached up to grip his wrist. "Did you know?"

Her strength was certainly returning. He glanced down at her hand. "Know what?"

"What cutting the connection would do, back on the planet. Was that why you did it?"

"No," he replied honestly. "I was only trying to save you. I didn't realize until later what effect it would have on the fetus and its link to your body."

She released his wrist, calming visibly. "All right."

Suddenly a flash of inspiration struck him. "Oh Donna, you're brilliant!" he cried.

"Huh?"

"Brilliant. Fantastic, amazing, clever, and just… brilliant!"

"What've I done now?" she asked in bemusement.

He noticed that she was looking a little pale again. "You'll see," he replied cryptically yet affably. "But right now, you need to rest some more."

It was a testament to her ordeal that she did not question him further. She merely nodded and rolled onto her side. In a few moments she had drifted off to sleep again.

* * *

After two days of bed rest then three more of lounging about the ship, Donna was growing bored. She remained a bit tired and rather weak, but her strength was gradually returning. The Doctor provided her with light yet nutritious snacks, loads of tea, and eventually full meals. She read and watched movies, and while she ate he chatted with her. But as the days wore on, both began to succumb to a strong sense of ennui.

On the sixth day, she awoke to feel the ship dematerializing. She got out of bed, feeling somewhat more energized than she had in a while. The Doctor appeared in the corridor as she stepped from her doorway.

"Fancy a little stop off?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure," she replied.

He grinned, looking for all the world like the cat that swallowed the canary. He had something up his sleeve. She smiled in anticipation. They were back to their old selves, and that felt great.

Donna dressed then joined the Time Lord in the Console Room. He was studying a screen intently but looked up as she joined him.

"Everything seems to be in order," he told her. "Ready?"

She nodded. "Always."

She was mildly surprised to find herself exiting the ship in darkness. Wherever they were, it was the dead of night. She couldn't even see any stars in the sky. The Doctor switched on a torch and aimed the beam ahead.

"This way," he said, walking ahead of her.

She followed, noting that they were in a wooded area that seemed remote; she didn't see any houses or other buildings. However, as he shifted the light upward, a tall tower loomed above. A single blue bulb pulsed rhythmically at the top.

"Where are we?" she asked. Somehow this didn't seem like a very exciting place…

"Ngengngner-3," he replied.

Immediately Donna grew cold. The Doctor reached for her hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

"Don't worry," he said. "There won't be an eclipse for another seven days. I checked and double-checked, then triple-checked to be sure."

She swallowed around the lump in her throat. "Yeah. Good. That's good."

As she calmed somewhat, her gaze swept the area. They were clearly out in the middle of nowhere. She couldn't imagine why he'd brought her here, unless…

"Oh God," she gasped, listening for any tell-tale sounds. "Is there someone in trouble out here? Did we come to save a woman?"

He was smiling poignantly. "Yes. We came to save them all."

She shook her head in confusion. "I don't understand."

"Don't you? You gave me the answer, the solution that no one had ever thought of. You gave me a way to keep them all safe." He was reaching into his pocket as he spoke. He withdrew a box about the size of hard cover book. He held it up for her visual inspection. "This broadcasts low-level delta waves specific to psionic transmission. It'll disrupt any attempts at psychic connection."

She grasped his meaning quickly. "And without that connection, fetuses won't be able to survive." While the rational part of her mind knew this was a good thing, she still felt a pang in her heart.

"Without the psionic connection, the blastocyst can't develop beyond a few cells," he corrected gently. "The women's bodies will reject them within a matter of hours."

"But they'll still be attacked—used by those bastards."

"For a time, yes. I'm afraid that's unavoidable. But once the Lledo discover that impregnation isn't working anymore, they'll stop trying. And they won't know what's causing it; they'll have to assume that women here have become incompatible. It's happened in the past, so it could certainly happen again."

"How long?" she asked.

"Until they stop trying?" He looked away for a moment. "I'm not sure, but ultimately they will, and that's what's important."

"Yeah, I suppose so."

"And this way," he lifted the box, "there'll be no repercussions. They'll be no one to blame because no one will know what caused it."

"What if someone finds the box?"

"They won't." He passed her the torch, and she held it to light his way.

Then he strode to the tower and, nimbly as a monkey, climbed up the metal supports until he was only a few meters from the top. Donna watched as he put the box in place then did something with the sonic screwdriver to secure it. With a satisfied if somewhat grim grin, he tapped a button on the transmitter then descended to join her on the ground.

"It's done," he said.

She shone the torch on the box again, but she couldn't find it. He watched with mild amusement as the light bobbed about. Finally she shifted it to illuminate his smug face.

"What'd you do?" she asked.

"Perception filter—easy peasy for something inorganic and small. No one will ever see it."

She switched off the torch. The night was dark and silent. For a few moments Donna simply stood and took it all in. Then she wrapped her arms around the Doctor and enveloped him in a fierce hug.

"Thank you," she sniffled.

She felt his hand moved over her hair. "No, Donna, thank _you._ This could never have happened without you. And I'm sorry, so sorry, that you were hurt in the process, but it won't happen again. Everyone's going to be safe because of you."

Donna took a deep breath and wiped her eyes. "Right. Come on then, space man. Let's get out of here. I wanna go someplace warm and bright with really good food, really posh surroundings, and really, really good masseuses. Got anywhere in mind?"

He arched an eyebrow at her and grinned. "Don't I always?"

"Yeah, you do."

He looped a casual, amiable arm around her shoulders as they walked back to the ship.

Atop the tower, the small box whirred very softly, sending out silent succor.

* * *

_To be concluded in the epilogue…_


	12. Epilogue

Onwards and upwards: That had become his unofficial credo of late. The Doctor swept from one adventure to the next, rarely lingering between escapades to reflect, let alone to ruminate. Once assured that Donna's body had healed, they hopped from planet to planet, era to era, running, stumbling, fumbling, bungling, laughing, and reveling at the safe conclusion of each exploit.

The events on Midnight, however, had left him shaken. He spent a little more time alone than usual, withdrawing somewhat from Donna's brash yet solicitous queries and brassy attempts to cheer him. He needed time, and eventually that's what she gave him. Oh, they continued on, exploring new places and epochs, lending a hand here and there, but he kept to safer destinations, needing to avoid peril for a little while. If he was slightly subdued and less talkative than normal, she didn't push the issue. If anything, she became a bit quieter, too.

He began feeling more himself after a stop on the fourth moon of Kagiapak. They'd found a carnival there with lots of thoroughly unnutritious treats and sweets, and when they returned to the ship, his mood soared. Donna muttered something about a sugar high and gave a long-suffering shake of her head before disappearing down the corridor.

The Doctor fiddled with some maintenance tasks as his energy levels subsided. Even after the rush had left him, he felt content. In fact, he was almost, but not quite, in the mood to flirt with domesticity. He walked with long, fluid strides to the kitchen and prepared Donna's favorite tea.

Now he just had to find his traveling companion. He checked her room, but she wasn't there. The nearest garden was empty, too, as was the media room. Finally he found her in the library, curled up on one of the worn leather sofas. She held a pillow snugly; her face was turned away from the door.

"Donna! Thought you'd disappeared in the garden, but the Giant Venus Flytrap didn't look like he'd eaten recently, thank goodness. Have I ever mentioned that you should avoid him when his stalk's deep green? That means he's hungry. Now, if the stalk's more yellow or slightly pinkish, then he's all right, no chance he'll make you into a mid-afternoon snack—"

She gave a small nod of acknowledgement but didn't turn to look at him. "Yeah."

A little tell-tale sniffle caused him to brush aside her hair to reveal tear-stained cheeks. "Donna?" he questioned. She looked pale. He sat down beside her to rest his hand against her cheek. "You all right? No, of course you aren't. Stupid question. You wouldn't be sitting here all alone crying if you were."

She shook her head in mild exasperation at his prattle but didn't say anything.

"What's the matter?" he asked, his tone softer and gentler now.

"It's nothing," she replied listlessly.

"It must be something," he replied kindly. "Tell me what's wrong."

She worried at her lower lip for a moment then sighed. "It's just… just my stupid monthly."

"Your… oh, right, yes." As understanding unfolded, a niggle of concern began. "Is everything all right? I mean, is it worse than usual?" He'd been fairly certain that she was healed, but maybe he'd missed something…

"It's fine, just the regular cramps and stuff." Her arms wrapped around the pillow a little more securely.

He cupped her cheek. "Tell me what's going on," he urged gently.

"It's just," she began, clearly reticent to share her thoughts.

He rubbed his thumb over her cheekbone. "What?"

"It just reminds me of… everything," she finally said. "Of what I lost."

He tilted her chin up so that he could look her in the eyes. It was time to ask the question he'd kept to himself for so long. "Do you want to forget?"

"What d'you mean?"

"If you want me to, I can remove the memories; you'll never know any of that happened."

"You can do that?"

He nodded somberly. "Yes, although it's not something I make a habit of doing."

She considered the option for a few seconds. Before she could respond, however, he continued speaking.

"I know it's painful to remember. I understand that. But I also know that what you sacrificed led to the salvation of an entire planet, to the end of fear and violation. If you'd rather remove it from your mind, I'll help you, but I want you to know that _I'll_ never forget."

A hot tear splashed over his thumb. He brushed it away with a tender stroke.

"I think," she said slowly, "that I can manage. I think I need to keep it, to remember it all."

He smiled softly and hoped that she could sense his pride in her. "All right."

She exhaled slowly, and he could see the burden lift from her shoulders. However, it seemed to nudge at her again as she winced. Her hands shifted against the pillow.

"Budge over," he said, taking the pillow from her.

She gave an initial scowl of protest but complied. He slid his right hand behind her back, moving it down to the base of her spine. He rubbed his palm in light circles against her warm human skin, gradually increasing the pressure. He felt her relaxing as the pain lessened.

He used his left hand to knead along the lower portion of her spine, loosening the tight muscles. Donna sighed contentedly as both hands massaged away her discomfort.

"Better?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Yeah. Loads."

He eased his hands away but managed to loop an arm about her shoulders. "Come here, you," he said affectionately.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" she asked, snuggling against his chest.

"Here and there, then and again," he replied obliquely.

For once she didn't seem to mind his abstruseness. She simply said, "Thanks. For this," her fingers brushed over her belly, "and for the offer."

His gaze moved over the countless rows of books in the dim room. "You know, my people used to say that a Time Lord is the sum of his memories."

"Yeah?"

"Yep. But I think that applies to some humans as well. And you, Donna Noble, are so much more than you ever were. Everything you've seen, everything you've done—it's all added up to make you who you are now, and that's someone pretty special."

"I know," she replied softly. "Really, I wouldn't trade any of it for the world."

From some deep corner of the cavernous room a grandfather clock ticked in steady, timeless rhythm. The gentle snick of the finely crafted hands was the only sound in the library for a very long time.

* * *

_Fin_


End file.
